Nightmare
by Azuphere
Summary: "I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare." - Ned Vizzini, It's Kind of a Funny Story AU/OOC Rated T for mentions of self-harm, bullying, and other topics like that in later chapters. Pre-written.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my third story up here on FanFiction, and my first multi-chapter story. It will eventually contain themes of self-harm, bullying, and other topics similar to those, so do not read if it makes you uncomfortable, or triggers you in some way. Sorry that this first chapter is mostly just ranting, but it mostly serves as a sort of Prologue. Also, this story is pre-written, so I'm sorry that I will most likely not be able to take up any suggestions that you give me. The reason for this is that this story was originally my English CPT, so yeah. My friends claimed that the idea was overly depressing, but I don't. Without further-a-do, I now present you my story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

(Percy's POV)

"_Once upon a time..._" the practical, basic introduction of the majority of fairy tales out there. _Cinderella_, _Sleeping Beauty_, _Snow White_, all the famous short stories that we grew up listening to, were all lies. They make every single child out there have false hope that one day their prince charming, or knight in shining armor, will come along and swoop them off their feet. Slaying all the mighty dragons and villains that come along and ruin your life, making it miserable. Although, in the end, the hero always comes along and makes life better again. Then the prince and princess will happily ride off into the sunset, looking forward to a better life ahead. The ending? Always, and I mean every single time, _"... and they all lived happily ever after. The end._" Though, I tell you, there is _no_ such thing as a happily ever after! That is one of the many lies that fairy tales feed to young, naïve children. After all, happy endings do not exist. Not now, not _ever_. Someone once said, "every hero has a tragic ending." No matter what you do, even if you save the world a million times over, the gods will just use you as a pawn, and once they're done with you, and they deem your services not needed anymore, they forget and ignore you faster than you can process what is actually happening. After all, the Greeks practically _invented_ tragedy. If you even think about it, what hero actually had a happy ending? They may have had sad beginnings, happy middles, but the ending? Tragic. Whether it's death or deceit, something always comes along and ruins your life, _forever._ Now I may be biased based on my own life, if my reality can even considered as _living,_ but that is what I believe. It doesn't matter if you're famous, rich, poor, pretty, smart, or athletic, _nothing_ matters when it comes to fate. The worst part about fate is that you cannot _change_ it. When you're born, even maybe before that, your life is already very carefully constructed by the Fates or some higher supreme being. Even when you think, "Oh, maybe I defied fate," you are most likely very wrong. For all you know, everything was already planned out for you. All the struggles, hardships, ups and downs that you may experience, were probably all deliberate, so that one way or another your life shapes up to what it's supposed to be. Sometimes you feel as if the Fates are against you, I feel that way at least, but then again, fate is on _no one's_ side.

Have you ever wished that life was all just a dream and that you'd wake up five again? Carefree, joyful, energetic, innocent, optimistic, and completely oblivious to the horrors of the world around you? Back when you were still _blissfully_ ignorant? Don't you ever wish that you could go back to the days when the saddest thing you ever experienced was when your favourite crayon broke? When the worst pain you ever felt was when you'd scrape your knee or get a paper cut? Back when no one got judged or even _cared _about what you looked like? When the most rebellious thing you ever did was stay up past your bed time? Back when a "crush" was just a drink? Or when love was just what you felt for your parents or an adorable puppy? Back when the only electronics or technology you "needed" was the latest "Hot Wheels" model? When showing off was just for Show n' Tell? Back when you could hold someone's hand without feeling embarrassed? When swearing was scandalous and completely forbidden? Even in that situation, the worst word you would ever say was "stupid," "dumb," or "idiot." Back when getting in trouble was only because you wouldn't share your toys? When your most favourite thing in the world were bubble baths? Back when popularity was based on who had the better crayon pack? When friends would always stay by your side, and that you'd promise to be BFF's, when you didn't even know what that stood for?

Back when your parent's would only scold you for eating dessert before dinner? When stealing was only from a cookie jar? Back when the only thing you'd watch and listen to, was Disney? When you could act like a complete goof and no one would mock, laugh, or judge you? As a matter of fact, they might even join you? Back when the scariest thing you ever experienced was from a Jack in the Box? When your parents would still tuck you into bed and give you a bed time story? Then they'd give you a little kiss on the forehead, tell you to not let the bed bugs bite, and then they'd turn on your little Bat Man night-light? Back when monsters were the imaginary creatures lurking underneath your bed? When you could get in trouble and the worst punishment you ever gotten was a time-out? Back when tears were only shed because your goldfish died? When you would wake up early on Christmas Day because you wanted to see what "Santa" got you? Back when you would play in the snow for hours, only to come home to hot chocolate?

When lying was only used to say who ate the last cookie, or if you cleaned your room? Back when the most "wild" parties was at Chuck E. Cheese? When getting "high" was on a swing set? Back when drinking was only from juice cartons or Kool-Aid? When smoking was just for a barbeque? Back when our knowledge of guns and shootings were from Nerf? When the only tattoos we got were either fake or drawn on our skin from pens or smelly markers? Back when an addiction was what you felt towards candy? When War was just a silly card game? Back when you'd see a dead body and think that they were just "sleeping?" When you still believed that the world was made up of cotton candy clouds, and that there was always a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow? Back when you still thought that superheroes were real? When nobody had such high expectations of you? Back when the only time coffins or blood crossed your mind was because you were thinking of vampires? When you still thought that you could do anything and achieve the impossible, without actually thinking about the technicalities? Back when the only thing we did on the internet was play childish games? When we would always chase after the ice cream truck, once we hear that all-too-familiar music?

Back when we would always slide down the stairs no matter how much it hurt? When we could dress up in ridiculous costumes because we felt like it? Back when competing was only for who could swing the highest or reach the tree first? When you would still _play_ during recess instead of just standing around, talking, trying to act "cool." Back when you would skip everywhere you go, humming to the tune of _The Wizard of Oz_, without worrying about being made fun of? When you would eat whatever you wanted, without worrying about gaining weight and getting "fat." Back when we'd always get awestruck by the simplest of things? When we still thought that magic was real? Back when we still thought that kissing was "yucky" and that girls still had cooties? When we'd splash in puddles and dance in the rain? Back when "pretty" was used to describe a flower? When "hot" described the temperature outside on a warm summer day? Back when we didn't have the need to _impress_ anyone?

When we were absolutely fearless, yet secretly scared at the same time? Back when our parents still gave us piggy-back rides and allowed us to sit on their shoulders or lap? When we didn't have the need to "fit in" because everyone just did so _naturally_? Back when you were completely afraid of rain storms and car washes? When you still believed the fact that your pet "ran away?" Back when we would sneak around the house, pretending that we were James Bond, hum along to that tune, and we'll have our fingers shaped like a "gun?" When our biggest accomplishment in life was learning the whole ABC's song? Back when we always thought that we won, not knowing that our parent's purposely let us win? When it never mattered if we had skill or talent? Just as long as we participated and tried our best? Back when a pinky promise was the most serious oath we could make? When we promised to be forever, not knowing how short forever really was? Back when all our day consisted of was eating, playing, and taking naps? When someone would be rude to us and the worst thing we could ever say to them was "meany?" Back when we were allowed to tell our teachers or parents anything, without worrying about being a "tattletale?" When we were allowed to be immature? Back when you still believed that life was a fairy tale... Now, I won't start ranting about how I absolutely _loathe _them, and that they are very misleading, and completely and utterly false, but I will tell you this. My life, though far from a fairy tale, all began with a "_once upon a time..._"

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it so far! Sorry that the paragraphs are really long. It was originally just two, but I decided to break it down a bit, so it might be easier to read. Also, there isn't really any dialogue, or a drastic change in topics, so...yeah. Does anyone else miss being a kid, or is it just me? Since this story is pre-written, the next chapter will be up shortly. I still have to proofread it for the nth time, and stuff. If you find any mistakes, tell me. My English teacher didn't really look for any grammatical errors. Also, sorry if some sentences, or parts of sentences, were a bit awkward. It's just my style of writing. So yeah, until next time! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello. Thank you to those who read, reviewed, and/or followed this story. Here's the second chapter. By the way, all the chapters aren't always going to be this long. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

(Percy's POV)

Believe it or not, I was actually once _happy_ in life. Yeah, surprising, I know. If you compared me now to who I was before, you never would've guessed that we were the same person. Even my _appearance_ changed drastically, and not in the sense of puberty. Before, I was so cheerful, optimistic, and full of life. My eyes were known to have a special spark and mischievous look to them. Now? I am almost completely different, both in character and looks. My personality is now currently depressing, dreary, morbid, pessimistic, and every other synonym out there that describe these adjectives. The scrawny, pathetic thing that I call my body is scarred, battered and bruised, courtesy of myself and others. My eyes, which were once a beautiful shade of sea-green, as stated by others, are now full of hurt, betrayal, sadness, and lifelessness. I am now like a dead person walking.

Now I know what you're all thinking, "Why are you now like this?" Well, let's just say that behind every person, there's a story, and mine just so happened to start going downhill, with a sudden, drastic, 90 degrees, straight, downward turn, several years ago.

It all started one seemingly completely innocent day during the fourth grade. My brother, Tyson, was turning six. Now a word about Tyson before I continue on with my miserable flashback. He was autistic, but don't let that give you a total judgement of his character. Tyson is actually really lovable, outstanding, strong, enthusiastic, and smart. Even though he can be really childish, annoying, and a burden at times, I loved him. Now, continuing on with my story, since it was Tyson's birthday, my father, Poseidon Jackson decided to take him on a sailing trip. I, unfortunately, was unable to come, no matter how much I wanted to, because of the terribly persistent sickness known as the cold. My mom said that I couldn't go since, despite the fact that it might make the sickness worse, Tyson and my dad might catch it too, and then they'll both be unable to go on the trip. I'd rather risk my own enjoyment than make my brother suffer, since I knew how much he was absolutely ecstatic for that trip.

On the day that they left, none of us knew of the events that were about to occur. The weather forecast claimed there to be, "Sunny days and a slight breeze," for the following week, a perfect day for a good sailing experience. That was the last time I trusted so-called "professional" meteorologists. It turned out that on the second day of their voyage, a terrible storm happened, and my brother and father just so happened to get stuck in it. "Lost at sea.." the police informed us after a couple weeks of my family not returning, after the expected date. After another few years of no response, they finally declared them "dead." Even though I knew that the investigations should take longer than that, I came to the conclusion that they weren't trying hard enough, and, if they had it their way, they would've declared them dead way sooner. They probably didn't want to waste their time on a couple of "nobodies," when they could be investigating more _severe_ cases like murder, or something.

As an initial response, my mom and I grieved, obviously. However, we still held on to that tiny sliver of hope that one day they'll come back home, safe and sound, saying that they were just lost on a stranded island, and that they just found their way back, recently. Although, after a year of no contact, we just completely lost hope. After all, we should've known better. Life isn't some movie or book where the presumably "lost" person finds their way back to their loved ones, and they all live _happily ever after_. No, because that isn't _reality_. The truth? The cold hard truth? They never come back! You may hope and wish or pray, and do whatever, but _nothing_ can bring them back. After all, hope is just an illusion. It makes you believe that anything is possible, and that anything can happen, if you just _believe_.

Like in Greek mythology, Pandora's _pithos_, or otherwise known as a box or jar, contained all the evil demons of the world. When Pandora, oh sweet, innocent, curious Pandora, opened that box, she was completely unaware of the damage about to take place. She never knew that she would be the cause of the horrors and terrors that devastated and frightened the poor mortals. But, then again, _no one_ knew. Except, for probably, the gods, who gave her that box, in order to _punish_ her and Prometheus, or maybe Fate had that outcome all planned out for her. Although, when Pandora opened that box, one little spirit remained inside, lingering near the bottom. It was Elpis, the spirit of _hope_. Somewhere, it was said that when all is said and done, and that when you feel despair, and pessimism, and that you believe as if all the odds are stacked against you, there is always hope. There is always a chance that everything can become better, and that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. But, what if that light fades? What if, as you start running towards the light, it seems as if it is getting further and further away from you, until it is nothing more than an extinguished light, and then you are completely surrounded by darkness again. Then you start wondering if that little piece of sunlight, was nothing more than just an illusion. Nothing more than just a play in your imaginations. Maybe that light was just a false _hope_. You may think that life will get better, but it never does.

I, unfortunately, speak from experience. Every time, we would get a phone call or a ring from the doorbell, my mom and I would always think that it would be them, smiling, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. But, it was never them. We would always bring our hopes up, only to be further disappointed, and more let down, than when we originally brought ourselves up. I mean, I _still_ have my birthday present for Tyson, lying in my closet, untouched, and collecting dust, waiting, for someone to open it and care about what's inside it. _Hoping_ that a certain six-year-old would excitedly rip off its blue, under-the-sea decorated wrapping paper, only to foolishly _grin_ at the four tickets to the new aquarium opening up, now probably expired. He would hug the life out of me, crushing my ribs in the process, and then plead to Mom and Dad to take us there the following day, so he could marvel at the amazing creatures. He would point his little chubby fingers at the glass and exclaim, "Fish ponies," when in reality, it was only sea horses. We would smile and laugh in fondness of Tyson's childish acts, and then, as the aquarium closes up, we'd go get ice cream. Whenever I saw that present, this little scenario would flash into my mind, only to cruelly remind me of what I can't possibly ever have again, a proper, full, complete, and happy family.

Now, I'm stuck with an annoying, disgusting, cruel, selfish, disgrace to all human life, _creature_, known as my stepfather Gabriel **"**Gabe**" **Ugliano. I have no actual reason as to why my mother, Sally Jackson, would marry that pig, except for the fact that he helps pay the bills. Although, maybe the fact that he was actually nice before she married him contributed to that factor. My mother is so incredible, that there are no good enough adjectives out there to describe her. She already had an excruciatingly tough life, and that just supports my assumption that the best people in this world have the absolute worst luck possible. She at least deserved to remarry a kind enough man, worthy of my mother. Someone like my dad, before he...passed away. They were perfect for each other, and they shared a pure love, not clouded by lust, or anything of the sort. Although, that was what I believed.

I vaguely remembered this day, one year after my dad and brother were claimed "missing," that my mom explained to me that she and my dad were about to get a divorce. The forms were going to be sent to us a few weeks after they had gone on that voyage. Then, I found out that the only reason my dad celebrated Tyson's sixth birthday, and not his seventh or eighth, was because he wasn't going to _be_ there for those days. I also found out that the motives behind the divorce was because my father was having an affair with this other woman named Amphitrite. They were together for about a year before my mom had found out. She was completely heartbroken and decided to confront my dad about it. I remembered that day, you would expect there to be yelling and things being thrown around, and just a complete disaster in general, but it didn't happen like that. My mom never raised her voice to anybody, whether it be me, my dad, Tyson, or Gabe, and to do that, you would've had to have some serious control. On that day, all I was able to hear, with my curious little 9-year-old self listening through the crack of my bedroom door, were small whispers. I barely heard anything they said, but my mom explained it to me, that day, one year later. She said that my dad declared how sorry he really was, but he just, somehow, fell out of love with her. My mom stated that she had just stood there, listening to his excuses, trying to keep the tears in, and then after a while of awkward silence, she agreed to a divorce. Don't think that it was because she didn't love my dad back, oh no. It was because she really and truly loved him, that she let him go. After all, there is that famous quote,_ _"If you really love someone, set them free. If they come back, they're all yours. If they don't, then they were never yours, to begin with."__ My mom loved Poseidon so much, that she let him go only because she wanted him to be happy, even if it's not with her.

It's because of my mother's bad experience with romance or love, and some of my own, that I just started to _hate_ love. Maybe hate is too strong a word, so I'll just use "strongly dislike." Although, maybe the unpredictability, spontaneity, and illusion of love, also contributed to the dislike factor. After all, what is love? I don't think anyone really knows, whether you be an adult, teenager, or senior citizen. You may have a general context of it, or some understanding of it, but you can't fully explain what it is. Some may believe the cold hard facts, or some might just go out on a whim, playing by faith and emotions, only. Either way, both are dangerous. Even though some people believe that love will always makes you happy, I think that they just choose to be ignorant. Maybe they choose to ignore or forget about the heartbreak that may come along with it. I'm not just talking about romantic love, here, this also incorporates the other types of love, too. Like my family. When I heard the news about the near divorce, I was devastated. If my father and brother never went missing, then who knows how I'd be right now. Maybe I'll be even worse, because of the separation. Although, I'll admit, there were some days when I'd dream of a world where my brother and father never went missing and then proclaimed dead. Where there would've been no incoming divorce or affair, and that my father would love my mother as much as she does. I'd dream of a world where I still believed in happy endings and fairy tales. But, then the same thing would always happen. My dream world will come crashing down, and reality would hit me straight in the face. I'd wake up.

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><p><strong>I hope you<strong> **liked it. Sorry that this story is going along a bit slow. It picks up around the fourth or fifth chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/followed/or favorited. Here's chapter three. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

(Percy's POV)

Have you ever had a nightmare so bad, that when you wake up you feel so relieved? Well, that always happens to me, except in reverse, and_ I ___never __feel relieved. For me __life __is the nightmare, and my "reality" is during sleep, in my dreams. It's the only time when I could escape the horrors that is my life, and just be free. Although, there are times when I dream up literal nightmares, and those days are the worse. It makes me feel as if the Fates are trying to tell me that I could never escape nightmares or life. One way or another, I'll always come back to this horrid reality. Sure dreams make up a sort of illusion that I could imagine, to deal with my pain, naturally and in a healthy manner, but that's all it is. Just an illusion. It's similar to __false awakening___, _when you feel like you've woken up, but you're still technically in the dream. This is especially horrible, when your dreams are nightmares. When you feel as if you escaped a nightmare, but you're still in one. This is how I feel, this is my reality. Sure, I might be exaggerating, but if you spent a day in my shoes, you can't help but start to hate the world. You can't help but start to see the world as it really is. A place where all your nightmares lie. Wars, famine, deadly diseases, bullying, hate, monsters, pain... Sure there might be some good things in life too, like a child's laughter, a refreshing ice cream cone during the summertime, the look in someone's eyes when they look at someone they truly love, just love in general, a person's kindness and good deeds when they help someone in need, and some other stuff, but the bad stuff _greatly_ outnumbers the good. The blissful part in life is always temporary, but the dreadful things are always there. For all you know, the period of time where life all seems well, could be the awful things in disguise. They're always prowling right around the corner, waiting, patiently for the perfect moment to strike. When you are oblivious and unaware. When you think that life is all good. Then, the horrors of life comes back right around and catches you off guard. That moment when you are off balance, when you are at your weakest and most vulnerable, the __nightmares__ give off their finishing blow to destroy you.

Now, I should probably apologize. I am sincerely __sorry __for burdening you with all my problems and telling you the story of my horrible life. I'll warn you in advance. Turn back now, I am __giving __you permission to leave and forget all about me and my issues. You don't have to care about my feelings, no one else does. Don't even try to deny that fact, you're all just pretending. Pretending to care, as easily as how I fake happiness. Just go ahead and __leave__, just like everyone else in my life. Go on and live your life as if you never met me. After all, if you stay, all I'll do is make you sad. They say that smiles and laughter are infectious, though I tell you sadness and tears, are just as contagious. __Leave, __with any small amount of happiness and optimism you have left, because if you stay, there's no going back. You may say that you're "fine," and then you'll smile and laugh as if nothing completely depressing just occurred, but there would always be that small bit of guilt and misery, gnawing at your tips of your conscious, waiting to be released and take over.

Even though there is that small chance that you might actually stay, that maybe you'll actually make a change in my miserable world, and I, in yours, this small friendship will never last. We may talk and laugh, but I always get attached too fast. One day you'll leave and I'll be even more depressed than before, because you brought my hopes up, only to let me down further, than in the beginning. There'd always be this hole in my heart, that only you can fit. Others may try, but they'll never succeed. As cliché as it sounds, it's happened before, and there is no special rule that declares it from never happening again. Someday you'll make new friends, and then you'll forget all about me. After all, I'm only a burden, weighing down on your shoulders because you feel the need to carry it, but you don't have to. I'm only an irrelevant obstacle in your path of life, that prevents you from living out your full potential, and conquering your dreams. Even if you won't leave, then I will. I will leave your life so that you could meet other people, and realize that you never needed me in the first place. I'm sad, and I'll only make you sad. If I leave now, before we get to know each other better, then it'll lessen the pain. The pain of losing you, and whatever friendship we had. I'll leave, so that whatever joy and happiness you have, will stay intact. I'll go so you could enjoy yourself. Without me.

Fatal flaws... or otherwise known as a tragic flaw, or hamartia. They are a certain characteristic that anybody can have, which brings about their downfall. Every person has their own personal flaw, though some could have the same. Whether it be deadly pride, or hubris, the craving of power, the ability to hold grudges, or making yourself feel inferior, every person has their own fatal flaw. Even though some are of a more bad sense, there are some good-natured flaws, too. Though, it was said, that the flaws that are of well moderation, are probably the most dangerous ones. My mom used to say that if I ever had a fatal flaw, it would be personal loyalty. To save a friend, I would risk the world, or even my own life. I would endanger my own personal safety, in order to save a loved one, stranger, or even enemy. Although, I believe that she was incorrect. As much as I care for everyone around me, all I ever did was bring them despair. All I ever did was ruin their lives, safety, and enjoyment. So, how is that helping their safety?

Sometimes I believe that it would be better for everyone else if I just left. Nobody will care anyways, nobody will even __notice___. _All that they'd probably take note of, is one more empty desk in the classroom, one less occupied seat on the bus, one less victim to torment, one less student, one less __person___... _After all, it won't matter to anyone if I go, everyone will just go along with their lives as if nothing ever happened. Even for the few people that actually __might __care, they'll only grieve for a little while, and that's thinking positively, and then they'll continue living their lives, without me. They'll __move on___. _Besides, I'm only one person in the world. One small, irrelevant, useless, insignificant person. If I left, my next door neighbour will still walk his dog every day, not taking notice of the horrors that lie in the house next to his. The people at school will still chatter aimlessly, talking about the latest trends, and Instagram, and the major blow out party that a senior held the Friday before, etc. etc. If you ask me, though why would you want my opinion, I don't really see what the big deal is about parties, or even why you'd __still __want to talk about it after a whole week. After all, parties just for "fun," and if not for a special occasion, they are just an excuse to get drunk while underage, do drugs, "hook up," become more popular, and a bunch of other inappropriate, selfish reasons. I, much rather stay home, with all its nightmares, than go to a party with a lot of people from that other Hades-hole, otherwise known as school. It's not so much as school itself, in the sense of its education system, but I'm more leaning towards the students. They are a part of the reason that my life is miserable, and it's beyond my understanding of why people would do that. I mean sure, they probably have their reasons, and their own nightmares, but that's still no excuse to torment another person. If I leave, I sometimes wonder, whether or not, I'll leave an impact in the lives of the people around me. Will I change their lives or their attitudes? I seriously doubt it. Even if I don't make an impression, I'll still go, since it's better off for me and everyone else. One day, I'll leave, and __never __come back.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry that this chapter is kind of short. It'll start to pick up the next chapter, I promise. Warning: I got a little teary-eyed while writing this chapter. Sure it went away while trying to proofread, but still, beware! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

(Percy's POV)

Today started out normal enough. I woke up at 6 a.m. in hopes that my step-father is still fast asleep, completely hung-over from his little poker party with his "friends" last night. Gods, it was horrible, but then again, since I practically have to live with that literally 24/7, you could just say that my whole life is terrible. Last night, ESPN was blaring, and cigar smoke practically filled up the room so much, that I was surprised that the alarm didn't sound. Alcohol bottles were strewn upon the floor, ugly cheering arose from a lucky _creature_ who gained some money, only to lose it again within 20 minutes of the game, and a continuous stream of profanities so bad, that I half-expected someone to get soap and wash their mouths out with it. I blame them, and my oh-so lovely classmates (note the sarcasm), that I am like this now. Sometimes, I wonder if I could've done something else to change how my life will turn out. Though, I always seriously doubt it. The Fates are probably up there, somewhere, right now, laughing at the horrible misfortune that _they_ have given me. I know I probably sound like a spoiled brat, and that I should be grateful for the "privileges" that I have, compared to, say a poor child in Africa, but our lives aren't that different from each other. At least it's not like I'm someone who just desperately _needs _attention, and that they'd go so far as to seek pity from others, even though their lives are already lavish as it is. At school, I'd always hear the "popular cliques" complaining about how their parents don't have any time for them, and that they'd only spend, at best, an hour with them, but that should be enough, in my opinion. It's not like they spend much time with each other, anyways. At least they actually have parents that try their best to make time, and at least their family actually loves and cares about them. They should be able to realize the gifts that the Fates have given them, and to better appreciate them.

Although, what's worse is when I hear students complaining about how their parents don't understand them, or let them have their own way. Okay, sure you want a later bed time, sure you want to go to that party on Friday, but your parents always decline. Do you ever stop getting wrapped up in your own thoughts and feelings, that you stop and think about what your parents are going through? Maybe they don't want you to go to that party because they don't think you're responsible enough, or maybe you have other priorities to do, such as going out to dinner with your relatives. But maybe, just maybe, they don't want you to go because they're scared of losing you. They're scared of watching you grow up, because to them, you'll always be their little baby. Sure, it's hard to imagine how something so small, so insignificant, such as a bed time or party, can make, on a much larger topic, but it's the small things that count, right? Sure you might want a later bed time because you want to stay up chatting with your friends, or going on social media, but to them? They'll always think of you as their little child, who'd go to sleep at 8 o'clock, with you already ready in your little jammies, waiting patiently, for your mom or dad to come by, read you a bed time story, tuck you in, give you a tiny kiss on the forehead, and turn on your night-light. Sure you want to go to that party because your friends or your crush is going, but they don't want you to go, because they're scared. You're in high school, and there are enough cliché, high school movies out there that clearly justifies what might happen in parties. They don't want you to go because they're scared of losing their baby. Your parents still want to think of you as their little child, no matter how old you are, because the worst part of being a parent, besides seeing your own child die, is to watch them grow up. No matter how old they are, you still want to grasp on to those old vague memories of when you were the most important person in their life. Back when they'd happily run down the stairs, sit on your lap, and then they'd show you that they lost a tooth. They'll grin, a toothy, cheeky grin, and tell you that the Tooth Fairy will come tonight and leave them some money. You'll agree with them, obviously, trying to capture the moments when they still thought that those myths still existed, not knowing that it was truly you who put that money there. You still try to hold on to those moments when they cared about the little things in life, back when they weren't so wrapped up in school, status, and relationships. Although, try as you might, you always have to let go, and that's probably one of the hardest things about being a parent. One day, in just a blink of the eye, you'll see your little baby getting married, off to start their own lives, without you. Then the reality of it all will come crashing down on you. You'll be hit with the realization that they don't need you anymore. All those days when they depended on you for everything is all gone. It's their life now, they need to live it. They can't have you always by their side, making every decision for them, no matter how much you want to. You need to learn how to let go, and let them make their own mistakes, so that they could learn from it. Even though you would much rather take the weight of the world off their shoulders and hold it yourself, you can't do that. You have to let them take their own burden, without you, no matter how much pain it causes the both of you.

So when I walk into school, Monday morning, head down low, trying to act invisible, with these thoughts on my mind, hearing the students surrounding me saying words like "party," "parents," and "don't understand," I'd silently shake my head at their thick skulls. Can they not see that their parents only want the best for them? Their parents just want _you_ to understand the pain that _they_ are going through. You get stressed out with your school work, they get stressed out trying to support the family. You want the latest technology, and then you plead, beg and make promises to your parents that we all know that you are not going to keep, in order to get it. They'd shake their heads at you, but eventually cave in, because they want you to be happy. You take advantage of them, and never realize it, until they're gone, and once they're gone, they're never coming back. Isn't there a saying that says how you never realize how important something is until it's gone? Well, you can take this quote and apply it to various situations. Whether it be family, romance, or whatever, you never realize how much impact something or someone has on your life until they leave. I experienced this situation first-hand, various times. It's because of this that I try learning from my mistakes. If I ever had a chance to just thank everyone who left, I would, in a heartbeat. But, that never happened and it never will. All that I could hope for is that I'll say these words to the air, and hope that the wind will carry the message across to them. Although, it's not like they would hear it anyways, or even care. They left me, but I'm not sure if it's my fault or not. Did I do something wrong? I probably did. Everything I touch slowly dies. My family, friends, most of them left me, whether it be of their own will, or not. After all, a family's love is mandatory, friendship is temporary, and in the end, all you have is yourself, because, you can never actually rid yourself of your own body, now can you? You're stuck with yourself, forever, whether you like it or not.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it. <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, again. Not all chapters are going to be this long, by the way. All are going to be over 1,000 words, but no more than 3,000, I think. **

**Disclaimer: I do not, and will never own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

(Percy's POV)

"Percy!" I heard a voice call out. I involuntarily flinched. At first I was worried it might be one of my bullies, Luke Castellan, but this voice was kinder. Besides, if Luke was calling me, he'd either say Jackson or Prissy. I'm serious, it happened before. I turned around and saw none other than Grover Underwood and Nico Di Angelo, my only friends that actually stayed loyal and never left. Now to describe Grover, not to be rude, or anything, but he was an easy target for bullies. Well, we all were, one of the many reasons that we all stayed friends. Since all of us were bullied, I'd stick up for them, and they'd stand up for me. Then we'd get beat up and humiliated together. Oh, joy. Grover was fairly short and scrawny, not that I was any better myself. He got bad cases of acne, a sort of wispy beard, and he cries when he gets upset. As a kid, he was diagnosed with this leg disease, that causes him to limp wherever he walked, and he gets excused from gym class, which was probably one of the only perks. Although, don't let that disease fool you. If you would see Grover when he hears that the cafeteria is selling enchiladas, he runs faster than the people on the track team, no matter how much pain it might put him through. On the more positive side of him, though, he is actually very kind, optimistic, and brave. Besides, anyone who could withstand bullying without trying to escape it, is pretty courageous. Don't think that if someone never tells anyone about the harassment they may endure is because they're afraid of being called a snitch. No, it's because they are _afraid_. They fear the possible consequences that may occur after the presumed "resolution." After all, how many times does bullying just automatically stop, after some higher authority gets involved? Probably not that many. Life isn't just a movie where the victim of bullying always stops being harassed, and then they all live _happily ever after_. No, because this is reality. Nothing and nobody gets a happy ending.

Nico Di Angelo is an... interesting person, to put it mildly. When you first see him, you automatically think that he's "emo." Besides the fact that you got the basic definition of emo wrong, the meaning of that term that you think of, somewhat describes him. Sure on the outside, with his messy black hair that covers his very dark eyes, black clothing, and silver skull ring, he looks quite depressed. Okay, sure he can be somber and anti-social, at times, but he actually used to be quite happy and childish, too, before the incident. Ever since his sister, Bianca, died a few years ago, gone was the hyper child that I used to know. Back when his sister was still alive, Nico used to such a curious, naïve child who was obsessed with Mythomagic, a card game based on Greek Mythology. He, along with myself and Grover, had all taken a serious liking to mythology, it was almost near obsession. We would all say, "Oh my gods," instead of God or gosh, "Hades" instead of hell, and etc. Everyone else thinks that that is extremely weird, and we even get made fun of because of it, but we don't care. Normal is so overrated, anyways.

"Hey 'cuz." Nico said in a small voice. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that Nico is my cousin? His father Hades, is my father's brother. Isn't it ironic how we all like Greek mythology, when it's actually somewhat part of our lives? For example, there is Hades, Poseidon, and my full name, Perseus, but I prefer Percy.

"Hello." I replied to the both of them. Then we all started walking towards our homeroom, which was also our first period class. It was English with Mr. Blofis. Even though there was still 10 minutes left until the warning bell, we would always go to class that early, in order to try preventing getting beat up before school even starts. Besides, Mr. Blofis is always in class early, and if anyone tries to hurt us, he sees. Mr. Blofis is actually a really nice person, and he has taken a fondness towards our little trio. He knows that we are good kids, compared to certain _others_, and that we have great potential. Mr. Blofis always reminds us that if we need extra help, we shouldn't hesitate to ask. As we were walking, well more like pushing through the sea of students, getting shoved and elbowed along the way, I could hear little snippets of trivial conversation, curses spat out from the mouths of other people, and little insults being thrown at our little trio, like "freaks," or "losers." If I never feared getting into a physical fight, I would've rolled my eyes at their immaturity. Like seriously, freaks? What are we? In the second grade? I could probably think of more better adjectives to call them, than their little puny mind can even comprehend. Finally, after five minutes of being really crowded against other people, who I despise with every fibre of my pathetic being, we were finally rewarded with the sweet smell of coffee and cool, fresh air. We finally reached our classroom.

"Good morning." Mr. Blofis said, cheerfully. Paul Blofis is a kind, humble, and honest man. He is somewhere in his thirties, and has longish salt-and-pepper-hair.

"Hi." Grover replied. Nico and I just gave slight nods in his direction, as a form of recognition. The English classroom isn't too big, nor too small, and has a sort of home-like feel to it. There was a large bookcase in the corner, filled with resources ranging from fiction books, to classic novels, to nature magazines, to dictionaries, and to thesauruses. He pretty much had a little library thing, going on there. There were single tables placed in rows and columns, and I was surprised to find some students already there. Grover, Nico, and I all took our places at the far end of the classroom, closest to the windows. I was in the front row, corner, Nico was behind me, and Grover was in the desk beside me. We _would_ sit in the back, in order to try to isolate ourselves from the rest of the class, but that is where the "populars" sit, and besides if we even sat in the back, then we are more vulnerable to bullying. At least, in the front, if someone tries to harass us, then Mr. Blofis would see, and then _they _would get in trouble. English class, is probably the class we get the least picked on because Mr. Blofis actually _cares_. No other teachers, except for him and a few others, actually care about the students. They probably think that we are all delinquent teenagers that are selfish, rude, and only care about themselves, relationships, and status. Sure there are some people like that, not naming any names or anything, but most of them aren't.

I tried looking at the chalk board to see what our lesson plan was for today, but it all looked like gibberish to me. If it weren't English class, then I probably would've thought it to be French, Spanish, or some other different language. _Stupid dyslexia_, I silently thought.

"What does that say?" I muttered to myself.

"I don't know." Nico said/whispered behind me. He too had dyslexia. I wasn't at all surprised when he answered my question, despite the fact that I said it very softly. After spending several years with Nico and Grover, our ears got used to hearing each others' soft voices.

"It says that we are learning about Poetry." Grover responded. He was the only one, out of the three of us, that didn't have dyslexia, nor ADHD. We all thought that he was lucky, but he claimed that he sort of felt left out.

"Thanks." I said, and then our conversation died out. Now, our friendship isn't the whole typical, chatting 24/7, going to each others' houses, and always hanging out. We used to be like that, but not anymore. Sure we hang out sometimes, but rarely, and we talk, just not as much. We just don't have much to say. Hades, I barely know anything about them. Okay, sure I know _some_ basic stuff, but that was the information we learned before we changed. Now we are very different, and the facts I know about them are fairly irrelevant now. Even if I knew Grover ever since J.K. and Nico is my cousin, I only found out about him in the seventh grade, then he moved away for a couple years, and then came back in the ninth grade, a completely different person. Even though we don't know much of each others' past, well more like our life at home, that's because we choose to not share it. It's not because we don't trust each other, it's just that we want to keep our own problems with ourselves, and not burden each other with more issues. Some things are meant to keep secret, and we never pry, unless we suspect something very wrong. We always respect each other's privacy and wait until they are ready to talk, which rarely ever happens. Although, sometimes information just slips accidentally, but if they aren't ready to discuss it, then we pretend it never happened. Sure it may seem bad, and sometimes the guilt gnaws at my insides, but if they aren't comfortable, then we don't interfere. This may seem like a bad friendship, but I would rather take a loyal, caring and honest, yet awkward and secretive friendship, any day, than a friendship that is filled with lies, deceit, and "fun."

"Okay class." Our teacher said. Wow, I guess I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, to not realize that the room was almost full and that class almost started. Well, I guess I can blame the ADHD for that. "If you haven't already seen the message on the board, today we are going to learn about poetry. I'm giving out a booklet now on the basics of poetry, and could I please get..." Mr. Blofis looked around the room, at the group of teenagers that looked either bored out of their minds, head looking downwards at their phones, already half asleep, and the few that are actually paying attention. He continued looking, well more like scanning, until his eyes landed on me. I tried sending him a quiet message, pleading him to not pick me, but, of course, he ignored my request and said, "Percy! Please hand out these sheets. Start reading the booklet once you get it and answer all the questions in the back." He said to the class.

I silently groaned in my mind, but got up, nevertheless, ignoring the small snickers and little voices probably saying something rude about me or my friends. Sighing, I took the pages off of Mr. Blofis' desk, and started distributing them amongst the monsters, oh wait, sorry, I meant _students_. You know what they say about monsters only being those large, ugly, deformed creatures, well, they are incorrect. In my opinion, monsters don't have to be those _things_ from the legends, like Bigfoot or Frankenstein, no they could include anyone who has _monstrous_ ways. Those that destroy other peoples' lives, willingly. The type of people who are in complete bliss when they see the great misfortune of others, knowing that they have caused it. Monsters can be the beings who like to cause another's pain, and that they will never feel guilt when they kill someone, not literally, but emotionally, psychologically, and mentally. You know how they say that monsters don't exist, and that they are completely fictionally, well, they are real, but they take the form of a different name. _Humans_.

I sighed again, while, very subtlety, shaking my head. Sometimes my ADHD really got carried away. As I passed out the sheets, I tried ignoring the stares, probably filled with disgust, and small bits of laughter. There was even this one kid, Ethan Nakamura, who even tried to trip me. Remember what I said about these people being from the second grade? Well I take it back. They are acting more like kindergarteners. You know what, never mind, even five-year-olds have more sense and intelligence than these creatures. I recognized Ethan as one of Luke's "friends." He probably picked up his bullying ways and hatred for me from him. Naturally, I stepped over his foot, I mean, I saw it beforehand, while giving him the poetry booklet. I didn't fight or retort back because my mom always taught me to be a proper and respectful person, and to never fight back, since I should never stick as low as to go to their level.

Finally, I finished handing out the sheets. I gave the remainders back to Mr. Blofis, who had a confused expression on his face. "There are extras?" He asked.

I nodded in reply. "There is one person missing, sir."

"Who?" He questioned. I looked towards the front row desks, to the one nearest to the door. "Oh, of course!" He exclaimed. I'm pretty sure he's doing a mental face palm right now. "She mentioned before that she was going on a vacation to Greece. How could I forget?" I didn't answer. "Well, thank you Percy for handing out these sheets." I sent him a very small smile in return, before heading back to my seat.

The package seemed fairly simple, but with my dyslexia, I had to try extra hard to read it. A few years ago, I would've probably just given up and daydream for the rest of the class, but a lot has changed since then. Before, I was too lazy to do my work and read, but back then, I actually had more friends to help me with it. Now, schoolwork and books are one of the only things I could use up my time on, and just lose myself in it. It gives me a chance to focus on something else, other than my reality.

I subconsciously turned my head to look at the empty desk, but I covered it up by looking at the clock. An abandoned table, even without her there, already brings up too many memories. _She _used to be one of my best friends, before she left me, just like everyone else. All those years of friendship, gone, thrown away like yesterday's trash. Before I could get carried away, again, I pushed these thoughts down. There's no use in reminiscing over old childhood memories in English class, now. It's the past, I should get over it, but I never really could. If I ought to remember those days, I would prefer to be all alone in my room, since it brings up all these old bottled up emotions, that I kept inside too long. A strong surge of emotions will submerge, and I'll feel sadness, anger, guilt, betrayal, pain, but worse of all, regret. Always thinking about the _what ifs_ and the _what could have been_. It's not so much as regretting all the things that has happened, because you at least had the courage to do it, but it's more like what you _didn't_ do. The regret that you feel of not doing something because you were scared or being cowardly. You will always wonder about if anything would've changed if you did something differently. But, you can never do anything about it, because it's too late. Now, all you can do is just accept that fact, and try to not let the regret eat out your insides. After all, sometimes the words not spoken, are the loudest, and sometimes the actions never done, make the most impact.

The bell rung, breaking my flow of thoughts. I cannot believe that I just spent, practically the whole period, lost in my thoughts. _Stupid ADHD._ I quickly packed up my stuff, and met Grover and Nico at the door. Sadly, we do not have the same second period class, so this is where we depart.

"I'll meet you at our regular spot for lunch, okay?" I asked.

"Okay." Grover replied.

"Later." Nico said, and then we went our separate ways. As I broke through the huge mass of students, trying to go to my second period class, Science, with Mrs. White, only one thought was on my mind. _Here we go again._

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><p><strong>Okay, guys. I hope you liked it. So, by now, I'm pretty sure that almost all of you already know who <em>her <em>is, but she isn't actually going to make an appearance until later on. She will be mentioned and referred to, but not actually revealed. So, until next time, I guess. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

(Percy's POV)

Science was uneventful. We started the unit of Biology, which I always found interesting. When I grow up, I want job that somehow involves water, something like a Marine Biologist, for example. Nico asked before, back when he was still cheerful, and just found out that I loved water, if I was good at surfing. After that event, which I answered with a straightforward, "I never tried," it has been a long-running joke between us, our old friends, and _her_, that I would study surfing, as a job. I now laugh cruelly in my mind, that is if I am even alive by the time I graduate high school, and have to find a career path. Even if I do live, how can I even find the money to support my school funds? I'd be surprised if I can even scrape up enough money to attend school next year. Gabe would probably gamble all of our savings away. Even if I have a part-time job, and he has an occupation at an electronics mega mart, I doubt we would have enough money to support all of us. I often wonder how Gabe is never fired from his job, yet. All he does is sit on the couch for the whole day, play poker or blackjack, smoke cigars, chew tobacco, and drink alcohol. Not to sound mean or anything, but I sometimes wonder if Gabe even has the ability to support his own body for more than a few minutes. I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't.

"Hey Perce?" Grover said, interrupting my thoughts. Not that there was much to disrupt in the first place.

"Yeah G-man?" I responded. It was lunch-time, and Grover, Nico, and I were eating lunch outside of our third period class, Latin, with Mr. Brunner. The reason we eat lunch in the hallways is because the cafeteria is filled with all of our tormentors that just _love_ to bully us. Sure we tell any teachers that pass by and question our motives, that the cafeteria is too crowded for us, and then they just pass by without a second thought. After all, might as well try to avoid our problems as best we can, right? Besides, Mr. Brunner always stays in his classroom during lunch, so if anyone tries to embarrass or hurt us, he can just come outside and resolve the problem. That's why after school, and sometimes during class, is the main target time for our bullies to attack.

"Are you okay, you seem distracted." There's the Grover I know. The loving, caring one.

"Yeah, just tired." I replied. Nico scoffed and Grover gave me a pointed look. I guess they both saw the picture/ quote that gave a very pessimistic look at what the acronym of TIRED can be. It's where the T stands for Torn apart, I stands for Insecure, R stands for Really faking my smile, E stands for Extremely sad, and D stands for Drowning in my tears. In my defense, I was telling the truth. In both the literal meaning of tired _and_ the acronym.

I sighed. "Okay fine. I'm just thinking." Thankfully, Grover didn't pry. Even if he did ask, all I would say is "nothing." On the downside, however, we are now left with an awkward silence filled with the sounds of breathing, the chatter of other students, because they are _that_ loud, and chewing.

"So..." I began.

"Great conversation starter, Percy." Nico mumbled, but we could hear him, anyways. Grover laughed a little bit, and I let out a small smile. At least he was talking.

"How's life?" I continued. See, this how our conversations are like sometimes. Awkward.

"Like I said before. Great conversation starter." Nico said. "Life is awful."

"Life is odd." Grover added. "It's also weird."

"Life is terrible." I mentioned. "And a nightmare."

"It's a terrible nightmare." Nico uttered.

"Aren't all nightmares terrible?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Depends."

"Life is beautiful." Grover exclaimed. I snorted. He was referring to the movie we watched in the eighth grade about the Holocaust. It was a pretty sad movie, near the end, because this person died, but it was okay, overall, for a movie that was in a different language and we had to keep reading the subtitles, even if I was dyslexic. Nico understood it though, since we watched the Italian version.

"Life is death." I claimed.

"Death is life." Nico agreed.

"Once we are born, we begin to die." Grover stated. I snorted again.

"Since when did we become philosophical?" I questioned. They both shrugged in response, and then our conversation died out. I let out an inaudible sigh. This is probably going to be our longest discussion for today. Grover continued eating, well, more like inhaling, his enchilada, Nico just stared out into space, his head slightly bobbing to the music he's listening to, probably Green Day, or something, and I just sat there, losing myself in my thoughts, again. Well, I would've, if the bell signaling the end of lunch, wouldn't have rung. We all gathered up our books and entered the classroom.

Latin class had groups of four tables, instead of individual desks, so Grover, Nico, and I, took our seats at the group closest to the door. Since there were three of us, there was one extra seat that always remained empty, since no one wanted to sit with "the group of loser freaks that has no one but each other." Well, that's what others said. I didn't mind, anyways.

"Okay class." Mr. Brunner said, effectively quieting all the little voices. "I have to go pick up something from the photocopier room, so I'll be right back in a few minutes. While I am gone, discuss with your group members the questions I gave to you on Friday." I suppressed a scoff. As if any of the other people would actually do that. "Miss Gardener, you're in charge." Before you ask, I wasn't disappointed, or surprised, that he didn't pick me. Katie Gardener is actually a really nice, responsible person. She's one of the few people that don't torment our little trio, and she actually helped us once or twice. There's no wonder our teacher left her in charge. Besides, if he picked me, it would bring upon unwanted attention, and highly preventable, possible, harassment.

Then Mr. Brunner rolled out of the classroom. Yes, I said _rolled_. Mr. Brunner had this sort of leg disease, different than Grover, that paralyzed his legs. Now he is confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Sad? Well, not really. Mr. Brunner would still be the same person, with or without leg disease. He wouldn't let something as small as a wheelchair prevent him from doing whatever he wants to do. I always admired his persistence and courage. Those are some qualities that I always wished I had.

"So," Grover started. "What did you get for question 4?" He had to yell over the mass of voices and chaos that resulted from the teacher's absence. Poor Katie couldn't do anything about it, since she was too busy arguing with Travis Stoll, about yet another prank he pulled on her. Everyone knows that he has a crush on her, and that he just pranks her to get her attention. They even have a "ship" name. Tratie, I think.

I was about to respond, when a paper airplane landed on our desks. It was probably aimed for one of our heads, but they misinterpreted the amount of force or aim, thus resulting in an airplane on our table, instead of head. I mentally rolled my eyes. Sometimes they really _do_ act like five-year-olds. The airplane was just left on our desks instead of being opened, since it was probably filled with insults and/or profanity. We usually just leave it there, until Mr. Brunner comes, then we throw it out. If we throw it out sooner, then we'd either get another one, or someone would come up to us, as if putting the airplane in the trash meant us fighting back, or declaring war. Yes, they are that immature and illogical.

Finally, Mr. Brunner came back, and everyone acted as if they were doing their homework the whole time. Well, most of them. Some reacted too late, which resulted in a small lecture from Mr. Brunner.

"Okay class." He said, yet again. "Today we are starting a project," there were some groans and shouts of protest, that Mr. Brunner ignored. "That will be completed with one partner, which you can choose yourself." Some cheers were heard. "After you have found your partner, come up to me so I could record them, and then I will give you the assignment worksheet. Okay? Begin."

I saw Grover looking behind me, while nodding enthusiastically. When he was done, I sent him a quizzical look.

"Oh, Juniper just asked me to be her partner." Grover said ruefully, but I could tell he was excited.

"It's okay G-man." I said. "And besides, it makes things less complicated." Nico nodded in agreement.

Grover's eyes lit up. "Really? Thank you." Then he picked up his things and moved to where Juniper was sitting. I didn't really feel that bad. I know how much this means to him, since Grover started crushing on her ever since they met in ECO Club. Juniper was nice, anyways, and really cared for the environment, like Grover. When he told us the news of his crush on Juniper, with a sort of dazed look in his eyes, we both gave our approval. "It's a match made in heaven." I remembered I told him, with a hint of a sarcastic tone. He didn't notice it and agreed, whole-heartedly.

"Partner?" I asked Nico, who sat beside me.

He rolled his eyes. "Who else would I pick? Drew?" He said sarcastically. Drew Tanaka was this really obnoxious, selfish, rude person that has a new boyfriend every week. Yes, she's a girl. She's really popular, probably because she's a cheerleader and "pretty." Well, she would be pretty if she didn't wear five inches of makeup and really... _revealing_ clothing. I often wonder how she never got in trouble, yet. Well, maybe her little _daddy's_ money also helps with that factor.

"Sarcasm not needed, yet appreciated." I replied, while we both got up. When we told Mr. Brunner of our partnership, and he gave us the worksheet, we returned to our seats. It was only then that we realized that we couldn't read the worksheet, since we were both dyslexic. Nico cursed under his breath.

"What now?" He asked.

"Just give me a few minutes." I said. "I'll try to decipher it."

He nodded, then snorted. "What are we? Sherlock Holmes?"

"If we are, then I'm Sherlock, and you're Watson." I countered.

"Pssh. I'm nobody's assistant." Nico stated.

"But, you're my friend." I said. "And besides, I'm Nobody." Nico snorted. I was referring to this inside joke between me and _her_, that happened several years ago. We just learned about the myth of Odysseus and the Cyclops, Polyphemus, so when anyone called us a nobody, we would say that we were capital N, Nobody. The other person would look confused as to why we didn't feel insulted, and then _she _and I would laugh it off.

After a few minutes, I finally decoded the assignment. Wow, I really was acting like Sherlock Holmes.

"Okay, it basically says to create our own myth, and then make a constellation for it." I said, simply. "It's due in a week, and we could present it if we want." Though I already knew what the answer was. _No._

Nico had a small, sly smile on his face. "Greek mythology?" He asked me, but we both knew the answer.

"Duh." I said.

His smile widened, and I was no better myself. Anytime Greek mythology is mentioned, we'd both get really excited. Before you ask, Latin class wasn't just about Latin. We'd also learn about mythology too, which was basically the reason we took this class.

"So, what myth?" I asked.

After a long discussion, we finally decided on doing a myth about a great hero, other than Hercules, who was forced to save the world multiple times, but he always maintained humble, and never got the power and fame go to his head. In the end, all that was left to discuss, was his parentage.

"Not Zeus," I explained. "Since it's usually always the child of the ruler of the gods, that gets noticed. Like Hercules." It was odd saying this, since I also have an uncle named Zeus.

"Hades?" Nico asked.

"You're only saying that because he has the same name as your dad." I reasoned.

"Who then?" He questioned. "Poseidon? He also has the same name as your dad."

"But, Poseidon's awesome." I said. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Fine. Rock, Paper, Scissors?" I asked. He nodded.

"Best two out of three." He said, I nodded. In the end, I won.

"But, Hades is better." Nico whined. I smiled. Sometimes, Nico lets the childish part of him out, even if it's involuntary.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't always pick scissors." I explained. "Besides, why do you love scissors so much?"

"It's sharp." It was my turn now, to raise an eyebrow at him. He just shrugged it off.

"Fine." I said after a while of silence. "This hero, or whatever, can have a child of Hades as a friend."

He smiled a bit. "Yay!" Nico exclaimed. I laughed.

Okay, so after conversing for a while, we finally decided our main plot. This hero, along with all of his friends and some gods, are going to have to fight in this war, which decides the fate of Olympus. When the war finishes, with the good guys winning, obviously, the antagonist will give a final blow, as they lay there dying. The blow was originally intended for one of the gods, but the protagonist, being the selfless hero he is, goes in front of them, and takes the hit instead. As the hero is nearing his end, with his soul going into Elysium, of course, the gods decide to give him a constellation, in honour of his memory.

"I don't know." I voiced out. "This story-line sounds familiar."

"It sort of does." He agreed. After a couple minutes, he just shrugged. "Oh well." Then the bell rung.

"I'll see you after school, okay?" I asked.

"Okay." He replied. Now I had fourth period class with Mrs. Dodds. Oh gods.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it. Does the little myth seem familiar to you? I really had no other ideas. I sort of feel bad about always making Luke and Drew the bad guys, but there isn't really anyone else. <strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

(Percy's POV)

I somehow managed to get to class on time, even if I had to go from first floor all the way to third floor, and some people were just walking _so_ slow. Don't they want to get to class before the bell? I guess some people just don't care. Besides, Mrs. Dodds never tolerates late people, unless you have a late slip, or told her ahead of time. Well, after a few minutes when the warning bell rang is a good example.

"Attention students." Her voice rang out and echoed across the four walls. It silenced what little voices were actually talking. Most students are too afraid to talk in her class. I'm included in that list, and besides, I don't have anyone to talk to. "Today we are going to learn about slopes." Silence. Even though I know that some students are mentally groaning. My eighth grade teacher once mentioned that slopes are difficult, so I was somewhat scared for this unit. Mrs. Dodds was about to continue talking, when the door suddenly opened, then closed.

"Mr. Castellan." Mrs. Dodds screeched. "Why are you late?" I didn't turn to see his expression, but I know that he is probably trying to give her one of those smiles that "melts every girls' heart," but his eyes hold fear.

"I'm sorry, Miss." He said. "It won't happen again." Even Luke has enough sense to not try to lie to Mrs. Dodds. He was probably caught up making out with his "girlfriend" for the week. I mean seriously? We're in the ninth grade. Who dates at that age? Much less play girls. I scoffed in my mind. He and Drew would be perfect for each other, if you ignore the fact that they'd probably cheat, and hook up with someone else, after a few days of being together.

"You have detention for a week." Mrs. Dodds declared. I could practically hear Luke let out a breath he's been holding. If I were in his situation, I would too. This is probably one of her minor punishments. It would usually be one detention for first-time offenders, but considering the fact that this is Luke's third late in a row, it's a week. I remember that there was this one kid, who was late so many times and skipped so many classes, that Mrs. Dodds had to give him a little talk after class. We never heard from the poor kid again after that. Some people say that Mrs. Dodds frightened him so much, that he moved away. I guess it was because of this story that most people are afraid of her.

"Okay." Mrs. Dodds continued. "Now the equation for slopes is..." The rest of class continued like this, and before I knew it, the bell rung. No one left yet, until we are dismissed. "Your homework for tonight is questions #1-26 on pages 161 and 162. Class dismissed." Not one single person said a word until they were out of the classroom. It was only then that the complaints started.

"Why so much homework?" This one kid, Connor Stoll, brother to Travis Stoll, said. The only reason that they didn't mention it in class, is because, when that happened once before, Mrs. Dodds doubled the amount of homework. How nice, right?

"I know, right? And it's slopes too. Why slopes?" This other person, Jake Mason, replied.

The other complaints sounded like that. Except that they used a lot more cursing and yelling. I was about to head back to my locker, when suddenly, my body collided with the wall. Great, just when I thought that this day was going to go by, without a glitch.

"Where do you think you're going?" Luke pinned me against the wall, with his hands on both my shoulders. His breath fanned my face, and it smelt suspiciously like mint, and was that smoke?

"To my locker." I muttered.

"Excuse me?" He asked, while pushing me back harder. His grip was so tight, it was sure to leave a bruise.

"To my locker." I said a bit louder. He threw me onto the floor. Surprisingly enough, the hall was empty and completely silent.

"Wrong answer." He spat, and then he left. Wow, today he was being generous. I attempted to stand up, but my shoulders throbbed in pain. Okay, maybe not. So, now because of my sore shoulders, I had to carry my backpack using my hands, which was a pretty awkward position. I went to my locker, which was on the first floor, and met Nico and Grover at our usual spot outside the Latin room.

"What took you so long?" Grover questioned. I sent him a look, and he nodded. "Oh." It's funny how Grover, Nico, and I can tell what the others' are thinking, and their response, just through one look. It's like we have an empathy link. Well, I find it funny at least.

"So, are you guys coming to Hestia's Hearth?" I asked them. Hestia's Hearth is this café that I work at, as a part-time job. I know I'm probably too young to have an occupation, but considering the fact that I have to help support my family, and that I have to help fund Gabe's poker parties, I really don't have any options. Besides, at least this job allows me not come back to that Hades-hole, known as my house, for a little while. My job goes from 3:30 to 6:00 P.M. on the weekdays, and 12:00 to 6:00 P.M. on the weekends. Although, I tell Gabe that I work until 6:30 P.M. since he'll probably tell me to come home by 6:40 P.M., so at least I have extra time to come home, anyways. Otherwise, the consequences would be severe.

Nico shook his head, while Grover said, "Sorry Perce, but I have tons of homework to do, and a Geography test tomorrow, so I can't go."

"It's okay G-man," I reassured him. Grover always blames himself, and says sorry, for everything, including things that aren't even his fault. "What about you, Nico?"

"I'm grounded for the week, for reasons unknown." Nico replied. I nodded. My shoulders were somewhat better now, so I hefted up my backpack, onto my shoulders. We then started walking towards the side doors, since the main entrance is filled with too much people. If you haven't figured it out yet, we _strongly _dislike people, except for a special few.

"Okay. Bye G-man." I said. He went left, while Nico and I went right.

"Bye." Nico mumbled.

"See you tomorrow, guys." Grover screamed, over his shoulder. Nico and I continued walking. His house was near Hestia's Hearth, so we walked together.

"We really need to get you a nickname." I mentioned, as we were walking.

Nico shrugged. "I prefer Nico." A little flashback here. Before we all changed, before everyone left us, back when we still had a lot of friends, we all had like a million nicknames each. Grover had G-man, my nickname for him, and Goat Boy. Nico had Death-Breath, Death Boy, Zombie Dude, etc. Lastly, there was me. Captain Salt Water, Kelp Head, Mr. Optimism, Mr. Rule Flouter, Mr. Scholar, Poodle Boy, Se-, well the list can go on and on. Okay, maybe not. We probably had like four or five nicknames. Well, I had approximately over ten. The reason that we don't use these nicknames anymore is because, when we used them they were _only_ nicknames, and were spoken with fondness and friendly teasing. Now, somehow our bullies got a hold on them, and are now used as insults and spoken with rudeness.

"Right." I muttered. We went into a semi-awkward, semi-comfortable silence. Well, there was always the noise of traffic, and random people talking. These people always have to go somewhere, that they never just stop what they're doing, and just stare. Just appreciate the view for a little bit, go to Central Park, have a picnic, whatever. Does anyone just ever stop, only to observe your surroundings. That's why I don't mind silences that much. It gives you a chance to think, to observe. I bet none of these people actually stop and wonder about the people passing by them. Who are they? What's their story? I'm not asking this to be a creeper, just curiosity. That man in a business suit, talking on his cell phone, who is he talking to? His boss? Future employee? Angry wife? Another relative? What is the importance of that phone call? What about those people stuck in traffic? Where are they going? Work? A restaurant? Do they have to pick up their kids from school? Why are they in a rush? Maybe they're just impatient, or maybe they really do have to go somewhere.

Then there's me. Sometimes I wonder how people think of me from their point of view. Do they think of me as a delinquent? A neglected child? A typical teenager who is rebellious, carefree, and close-minded? Just another person who has somewhere to go without a care for the environment around me? Or maybe they know that I have secrets too, and hidden pain that no one should unfold. How do they view me?

Nico suddenly came to an abrupt stop in front of me. I almost crashed into him, had I not stopped in time.

"Bye." He muttered.

"Bye." I said and then he walked away. I craned my neck up to see the sign above me. Even with my dyslexia I can read it. _Hestia's Hearth._

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it. I'm not really familiarized with physical bullying, so I just put something there. All those nicknames I got were from the Camp Half-Blood Wikia, by the way, so I just used them. <strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't really know anything about working at a café, or anything of the sort, so just bear with me. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

(Percy's POV)

A little bell dinged, signaling my entrance into the café. I was instantly hit with a large blast of warm air, which was a great improvement from the cold March weather outside. The smell of pastries, coffee, and a bunch of other things that really shouldn't go together, but somehow does, immediately wafted towards my nose. I took a deep inhale, savouring the aroma of the delicious delicacies. The café wasn't that busy around this time of day, but it isn't because this place doesn't have good business or anything. It's just located on a more isolated part of town, and the fact that it just recently opened also contributed to that factor. Although, all the people who did just so happen to come across this little café loved it, and gave positive feedback. Pretty soon, these customers will recommend us to their family or friends, so I assumed that _Hestia's Hearth_ should be popular within a few weeks, or so.

"Hello." I said to two of my coworkers. There was Rachel Elizabeth Dare, one of the two cashiers that worked here. I worked at the other one, which is now currently occupied by Charles Beckendorf, but everyone just calls him Beckendorf. I arrived a bit early, so I still have 15 minutes until I start my shift, and Beckendorf's shift ends.

"Hey." Rachel replied. Rachel was tall, had frizzy red hair, freckles, and green eyes. She is very outgoing, artistic, intelligent, kind, and independent. Even though her father is this very wealthy business man, she doesn't want to have to depend on him for money, so she now works here.

"'Sup Percy." Beckendorf responded. He is African-American, tall, muscular, kind, and hard-working. Beckendorf is really good with mechanics, and he only works here as a part-time job so that he can make enough money for a college or university.

I walked towards the back of the building, where the employees' lockers are located. Once I arrived, I went to my locker, number eight, and put my schoolbag and jacket in there. I then went to the rest room to quickly change into my work uniform. It consisted of a white polo shirt with the words _Hestia's Hearth_ printed in red ink, in the top left-hand corner, and black dress pants. For the female employees, they had the option of wearing a black pencil skirt. I then placed my school clothes into my locker. It was almost 3:30, so I headed towards the front. On my way there, I stopped by Hestia's office. Hestia was the owner of this café, hence the name _Hestia's Hearth_. Well, it could also relate to the Greek goddess of the hearth, home, and family. I remember how Hestia used to joke about how she _was_ the goddess, just in mortal form.

I knocked on the door, only to find it slightly open. "Hello?" I said, uncertainly.

Hestia turned around. "Oh, Percy. You're here." She exclaimed. Hestia is pretty young, probably around her late-twenties, early-thirties, has mousy-brown hair, and warm brown-ish red eyes. She is very nice, calm, humble, quiet, wise, and peaceful. Today, she is wearing a simple brown dress, that went just below her knees.

"I just came to show that I'm here." I stated. She just nodded.

"Okay." She replied. Then I just left. I checked my watch. It was exactly 3:30 by the time I reached Beckendorf.

"Is it time, already?" He asked. I nodded. Beckendorf then took a step back, and I took his position.

"Bye." He said.

"Bye." I replied. I looked around the café. Today was a pretty slow day. Small voices filled the building, along with soft music playing in the background. I saw a family of four, a dad, mom, and a pair of twins- a boy and a girl. The kids were young, maybe five or six. I saw the parents looking intently at the boy, as he was supposedly telling a _very_ interesting story, with big hand gestures. After a particular part, the family burst out laughing, their laughter filling the place. I sighed. My family used to be like that. Happy, cheerful, and very...close. Now, all I'm left with is a dull, incomplete family. I sometimes wonder if we'll ever be like that again, but I always doubt it.

I continued looking around. There were some couples, both young and old. I saw this one couple, both in their early twenties, maybe, chattering aimlessly to each other. At one point, the guy flicked a fry at her, and it hit her nose. The girl seemed part angry, part amused. It seemed as if she both wanted to hit him and laugh at him. She then threw a fry at him, but he caught it in his mouth. They both couldn't hold it in anymore, and they just laughed. It reminded me so much of _her _and I, except for the fact that we were _just_ friends. I looked away. Then, I saw an old couple. They were both politely eating their food, while making small conversation. Even though they didn't really show it, I can tell that they truly loved each other. They often came here. I know this because I would always see them. They would walk in, holding hands, and walk out, still holding hands. I could also see it in their eyes. The way that the guy would look at his wife, as if she was the only girl, or person, in the world. As if, no matter how much they would grow up, he'd still see her as the way she looked when he first met her. No matter how many wrinkles will appear on her face, she'd still be the most beautiful girl in the world. The same goes for the woman. I _know_ that she spends every minute with him as if one day he'll just leave. One day, he'll be gone and never come back. Someday, he'll leave, and every memory she had with him will flash through her mind. I _know_, that she spends every minute with him, as if it's her last. Like I said before, you never know how important something is, until it's gone.

The bell above the door suddenly rang. I looked up and saw this teenager, probably 16 or 17. He started walking towards me. I was a bit confused, until I realized that Rachel was most likely on her break, right now.

"Hello. Welcome to Hestia's Hearth. How may I help you?" I said, with as much fake cheerfulness, as I can muster.

He looked at the menu, located above my head. "Uh. May I have two medium milkshakes. One chocolate and one strawberry."

"Is that all?" I asked, while keying in the order.

"For now, yes." He replied.

"That'll be $4.58." I said. He gave me a five dollar bill, and I gave him his change. "It should be ready in a few minutes."

"Okay, thanks." He stated. He took a seat near the door, while constantly looking at the door or window. I wondered if he was waiting for anyone. After a few minutes, I heard a little bell ding.

"Two milkshakes ready." One of the cooks in the back, said. I transferred them to the front counter, and the boy got it.

"Thanks." He said, once again, and then he returned to his previous spot. I saw him drink the chocolate milkshake while placing the strawberry one in front him. That confirmed my suspicions that he was waiting for somebody, but where is she? I assumed that it was a she. The door dinged, and he looked up in hope. But, it was just another family. They went to Rachel, who is now back from her break. I never even noticed that she returned.

After she took their order, she turned to me. "He seems lonely." She pointed out, gesturing to the guy I noticed before. I nodded in agreement. "He's waiting for his best friend, who is a girl. Today is the first time that they got to hang out in a while, after she got a boyfriend, so he's really excited. Although, it seems like she forgot, or ditched. Oh," she exclaimed. "Did I forget to mention that he had a crush on her? Ever since they were 13, best friends since 8. How tragic." I wasn't too surprised when she just randomly spouted out all this random information about the guy. Rachel has this weird ability where she can sense someone's past, and sometimes, glimpses of the future. She's unique like that. Sometimes, when things were really slow, she'd tell me other people's stories. I felt like we were sort of intruding, but she always just waved it off.

I realized that she was waiting for an answer, so I half-heartedly replied, "Yeah, tragic." If Rachel realized that something was off about me, she didn't say anything about it. She just went back to her station. The reason that I wasn't too enthusiastic in my response, was because his story reminded me a lot of mine. His story was _so_ similar, it made me uneasy. He better not turn out like me. He better have his happy ending, even if they don't exist. He better not make the same mistakes I did, because he'll regret it. See, the downside of working here, is that I see too many people that I can relate to, and it brings up so many memories that I try to keep down, but always somehow gets brought up again.

The rest of my shift wasn't extraordinary. There were some more customers, but that same guy was always there. Even until the closing. He was persistent, or hopeful, I'll give him that.

"We're closing up, now." I said.

The guy looked up as if he never realized how much time passed by.

"Just five more minutes." He said-no-pleaded. I felt sympathy for him. He looked so disappointed and heartbroken.

"Fine, but only five minutes." I stated. He looked relieved, when I said that. I wasn't usually this lenient, but maybe it was the fact that I can relate to him, made me change my mind, even if for one day. Five minutes passed, and he started to get up. I realized that he was holding a flower, a red rose to be exact. It came to my attention that I never noticed it when he came in.

"It was for her." He recalled, when he saw me looking at it. "Today was the eighth year mark of our friendship. We were supposed to celebrate, it was tradition, but I guess she forgot."

"She'll come around." I said, trying to reassure him. See my dilemma? I give others advice when I can't even solve my own problems.

"I hope so." He muttered, almost to himself. "Thanks." He said a bit louder now.

"No problem." I said, and then he walked out the door. I took my stuff out of my locker, and stopped by Hestia's office, again.

"Goodnight." I told her. She stayed here until 8:00 and closed up the cafe.

"Goodnight, Percy." She replied. I silently scoffed inside my mind. _As if._

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it. If you haven't figured it out, I practically based all of the couples in the little café, off of Percy and Annabeth, just in alternate universes. By the way, there is no Perachel, or anything like that. There is actually no ship or pairing (sorry to disappoint).<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Don't follow the advice in the first half of the first paragraph. It probably won't help.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Nor do I own the quotes in italics. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

(Percy's POV)

I took my time walking home, since I still had 30 minutes, and it was only a 20 minute walk, even if I take my time. Even though it was pitch-black outside, I didn't feel scared. I walked along the main streets, and there were plenty of lights. If someone were to harass me, surely some person would see. Besides, I lived in New York my whole life, it's my home. You could get just about anywhere, as long as you knew the system, and didn't make yourself a target. These type of people who rob or hurt other people only prey on those who look frightened and weak. You have to look confident, with your head held high, and they, usually, don't bother you. I, however, lacked those qualities. Although, there's no harm in _pretending_, however. After all, fake confidence is better than none, right? It's similar to this quote I once saw before. "_Smile. It's easier than explaining why your sad_." It's better to fake happiness, than have others know you're sad. After all, the worst part of being sad, is having others know you're sad. Sometimes you just have to keep the pain to yourself. Although, sometimes the hidden pain, is the most hurtful. Sometimes the words not spoken make the most impact. Sometimes, the "what ifs" and "what could have beens" bring upon more guilt, pain and regret than what you did say, because you at least had the courage to say it, and whatever happened, happened. There's nothing you can do to change that. Although, keeping some words or actions to yourself, and always wondering about what could have been, brings upon more hurt and more pain, since you will never know how the outcome could've changed, whether it be for the better or for the worse. You will always think about the situation, and how it could've been different, and then the guilt will gnaw at your insides.

That's why there are tons of quotes out there that people say, about, for example, telling someone that you love them, because you never know if one day they'll leave, and then their heart will be taken by someone else. You keep these three simple, yet difficult, words to yourself, and then you'll always have to be just the "best friend." You'll have to deal with the pain of watching the person you love get heartbroken, and they only come to you for comfort. That moment when you look into their eyes filled with pain, you know that they only look at you as their best friend, nothing more. You'll have to deal with knowing that for the rest of your life. When you see them dancing with their partner at prom, and when you see them say their "I do's," you can't do anything about it. That moment you hear the priest ask if anyone objects to their marriage, you stay seated with your mouth shut, because you don't want to get in the way of your best friends marriage. Oh no, because you want to see them happy, even if it's not with you.

Although, do you know what hurts the most? It's not when you see the person you love, love someone else, it's not when you see your crush getting married, it's not even when you have to babysit their child. What hurts the most, is when you realize that they_ loved_ you, and that they may or may not still do. Although, the minute that you are informed of that, it is too late. Whether it be when they say, "I do" or when you are at their funeral. The worst pain of all, is knowing that you could've been happy with the person you love, and live _happily ever after_, but one little mistake that you both made, changed that. Then you live the rest of your miserable little life, even more miserable. All because of a few words not spoken. All because it is _too late_. You can't just turn back the hour hand on the clock, and go back in time, and right all your wrongs, no matter how often people wish for time travel. No, because it is literally _not_ _possible_. Besides, if you change the past, then your future will also change, which just complicates things. The only thing that we can do is move on and try to forget, but we never actually can. Sometimes, all we have left is our little imagination and dreams. We can dream about what could have been, and then we might be happy for a little while, but then, you wake up, and reality hits you straight in the face.

I walked up the porch to my house. Even in the dim lighting, I could see it. It was a fairly small, but enough, two story house, with the second floor being a sort of attic. There were some columns out in front, on our porch, and a small chimney on the roof. It looked fairly nice on the outside, but on the inside, that's where it is truly ugly. _She_ used to say something like, "_How can something so beautiful have a dark history? Or was it the other way around? Maybe, it was necessary to build something beautiful, in order to hide the more sinister aspects._" This quote was very much relevant in this particular situation. A beautiful house, that masterfully hides cruelty and evil.

As I headed towards the door, I could hear ugly cheering coming from inside. Tonight was one of Gabe's poker parties. He hosts them for about five days a week, and on Fridays, and Saturdays, he goes to one of his "friends" house. Those days are probably the best days of my pathetic little life. I mean, no school, _and_ no Gabe, it's wonderful. He doesn't come home on those nights, because, he's either too lazy, or too intoxicated to drive. It's probably both.

I took out my house keys from my backpack to unlock the door. I still had ten more minutes, I could just walk around for a bit, prolong my suffering for a bit longer...but I can't. I need to face this sooner or later. Besides, I could always tell Gabe that I finished early and that Hestia told me to go home. His tiny, pea-sized brain, wouldn't probably detect my lie anyways. As I brought the key towards the key hole, I realized it was shaking. I silently blamed the cold weather. Though, I know it wasn't. Although, I _did_ only have a thin jacket to keep me warm. No hat, no gloves, no boots, no scarf, just a thin jacket. Gabe wouldn't buy me a proper winter jacket, and he doesn't allow me to buy it, myself. He'll tell me that it's a waste of money, and that I should use it for something important, like to "fund his poker game." That is why I also lie about my wage, and that I ask Hestia to give me my pay in person, instead of cheque or online, because then Gabe will have to cash it in, and he'll take all my earnings. Being the selfish and conceited _pig_ he is. Luckily, Hestia didn't question it, and agreed to it.

I slowly turned the key, took a deep breath, and then opened the door. What lay before me was a huge...pigsty that consisted of alcohol bottles, cigars, food crumbs, magazines, jackets, and, wait, was that a rat? Gabe and his "buddies" were in the centre of the mess, using one of our coffee tables as their own personal poker table top. The worst part? I had to actually go _through_ this mess to go to the staircase, which leads to my room, that is on the second level. As I tried to go around the mess, Gabe's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Oh. _It's_ home." He said, but it sounded a bit slurred. I stayed silent while his friends laughed at his bad joke. Gabe didn't refer to me as his step-son, he didn't even refer to me as a _human_. I don't really mind, though. I don't call him human either. "Why are you home so early?"

"I finished early, so Hestia allowed me to leave." I explained. My eyes widened slightly. "Sir." I quickly added. He didn't notice the quick add-on, so I mentally let out a breath I was holding. Although, that didn't mean he wasn't a tad bit mad, though.

"You're still getting your full pay, though, right?" Even though it was formed like a question, it was more like a statement.

"Yes, sir." I said.

"You got any money?" He asked.

"Only a five." I told him. He huffed.

"Give it." He demanded. I dug through my backpack, and handed him a crumpled five dollar bill. He growled. "Good enough. Now leave." I speed-walked out of there. Although, I wasn't looking where I was going, and Gabe stuck his foot out. I tripped, face-first, into the pile of garbage, and I heard the laughter of Gabe and his "friends" above me.

"Wimp." Gabe muttered, and he spat on me. I quickly got up, and walked up the stairs. At the end of the staircase, you enter a hallway, with a door at the end, and two doors on either side of the hall. The door on the right was Tyson's room, the one on the left is my room, and the door at the end is a bathroom. I entered my room to get some clothes, so that I can change. Now I smell like alcohol, cigar smoke, spoiled food, and, _oh gods_, I think there's some rat droppings too. Was that tiny brown spot always there? Not to sound like a "Drew," right now, but it was disgusting. See what I have to live with? _Home sweet home._

* * *

><p><strong>I don't know if you can actually have your paycheck paid in person, but let's just say that it's possible for this story. Also, I'm not sure if there is actually anything like that little "attic," but let's just pretend that it can be real. <strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm sorry that this chapter is kind of short.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

(Percy's POV)

After taking a short, yet refreshing shower, I somewhat felt better. The water always reenergizes me, and wakes me up. Although, the bad part is that the soap stung any fresh scars on my body. It gave off small stings of pain, but the pain sometimes felt nice. After a couple minutes, I had to stop, otherwise Gabe will yell at me for using too much water. It's not like he showers anyways, it's not like he actually _pays_ the hydro bills, so why he yells at me, still remains a mystery. Then again, I don't understand the minds of _those_ type of creatures.

As I headed towards my room, my feet subconsciously walked to Tyson's room. I took a deep breath and opened the door. It was fairly small, but he was a kid, he didn't need a large room. The walls had under-the-sea themed wallpaper, with little sea creatures swimming across its surface. There were also some sculptures of sea creatures dangling from the ceiling, and it was actually really cool. I was somewhat jealous of it, but, hey, I could always come here and see them anyways. On some days, Tyson and I would just lie on our backs, just staring at the little figures on the ceiling. We'll let our imaginations take over, tell _unique_ stories, and just let out our inner child. Well, I let out the child in me, Tyson _was_ a child. It were days like those that reminded me of what I could never have back again.

His bed even had water themed sheets and there was even his favourite stuffed animal of a hippocampus on his bed. A hippocampus was a mythological creature, so I highly doubt much stores sell them as a toy, but my dad has-sorry, had- resources. His whole room was littered with little toys, clothing, and water related things, located just about anywhere there was space. He was just _obsessed_ with water, like my dad and I. When he and my dad was proclaimed "dead," my mom and I didn't have the heart to clean up his room, or to move anything. Doing so would mean that they aren't coming back, and still, after several years, we still _hope_, no matter how much I despise it. The feeling of hope, for me, is involuntary. No matter how hard you try, you always, for some reason, hope. I looked around the room once more, and I could almost see a little ghost figure of Tyson, playing in his room.

"Goodnight Tyson." I whispered into his room. I could almost hear ghost Tyson say goodnight. To me, this wasn't creepy at all. As a matter of fact, this is a regular occurrence.

I walked back to my room, and shut the door, effectively shutting out at least some of the noise emitted from the creatures downstairs. My room is about the same size as Tyson's. It has a bed, closet, desk, drawer, bookcase, window, etc. It was fairly plain, with beige walls and a wooden floor. I went immediately to my desk and started working on my homework. First up, math. Twenty-six questions were bad enough, but considering the fact that most of the questions had four to six parts to it, just made it worse. Add my dyslexia and ADHD to this equation, and you get a usual 30 minutes homework time, turned into 2 hours, and that's on a good day. On the plus side, however, this is slopes, and it doesn't involve that much work, since we just started. There's only a couple equations that Mrs. Dodds taught us, so today's homework shouldn't be that hard. Two hours and fifteen minutes later, I finally finished math. This duration of time wasn't that bad, considering the fact that the things downstairs kept distracting me. How the neighbours don't hear it is beyond my understanding.

Now, onto English, probably the subject where my dyslexia acts up the most. Thankfully, there were only fifteen questions in the back, and some of them were basically asking for definitions or famous examples. On the downside however, some questions tell us to write our own type of particular poem. There are only two like that. One says to write our own haiku, and the other wants an acrostic poem, where we use our first name, as the word. Oh gods. I am not creative at all, so this will be a challenge. After another agonizing one hour and thirty minutes, I finally finished. It was around 10:45 right now, so I packed up my stuff, and got ready for bed. After I closed the lights, and made sure that my bedroom door was locked, I crawled into bed. Although, as I did so, I felt a dull throb of pain. Everywhere I turned, I felt some ache. Great, just great, this is just what I need, more pain. I eventually just stopped caring, and slept on some of my bruises, probably not helping it heal, at all. Oh well, it's not like I'll not get more to replace it once it's gone. I swear, I have some bruises on top of bruises, and some scars on top of scars. Today, I felt so tired, that not even the racket caused by the creatures downstairs, stopped me from falling asleep. Although, with sleep, comes dreams.

_I dreamt that I was in Central Park, with my family, having a picnic. Cliché? Maybe a little bit. I distantly remembered that this event literally happened, several years ago. We just finished a satisfying lunch consisting of ham and egg sandwiches, blue lemonade, and blue cookies. If you haven't gathered this information already, we were _really_ obsessed with the colour blue. _

_ "So," my mom asked. "What do you want to do now?" _

_ "Play!" Tyson exclaimed._

_ "We just ate, Ty." My dad explained, using our nickname for him. "Just wait for another 30 minutes or so." Tyson pouted and we all had to look away. Once we saw Tyson's pouting face, we would cave in, and do whatever he wanted. _

_ I looked up towards the sky. "That looks like a turtle." I pointed out, randomly._

_ "What?" Tyson questioned. _

_ "You see that cloud?" I pointed towards the sky, where the cloud was. "It looks like a turtle."_

_ He cocked his head to the side. "Really? I see a face with stuff coming out of its nose." I laughed. _

_ "I see a submarine." My mom said._

_ "All I see are blobs." My dad added, with a hint of confusion. We all laughed for a good two minutes. _

_ "Care to be more specific?" My mom questioned, in between giggles. "Try to add more detail."_

_ "Well," he started. "I see big blobs, small blobs, medium blobs, and more and more blobs." _

_ My mom playfully shook her head, after another good round of laughter. "What are we going to do with you?" She mumbled, but purposely made it loud enough for all of us to hear._

_ "Hey!" My dad protested. Tyson and I both chuckled._

_ "I see a ship." My mom said, ignoring my dad's pleads. _

_ "Pony!" Tyson screamed, pointing upwards. I laughed a bit._

_ "I see a mouse." My dad added. _

_ "See?" My mom stated. "We're getting somewhere." My dad just pouted._

_ "I see a hand reaching out to grab the mouse." I pointed out._

_ "Meany." My dad declared. My family laughed. Sometimes my dad acted more childish than Tyson, and that's saying something. So that's all we did for the next hour or so. Cloud-gaze, eat some more cookies, laugh, and just generally have a good time. That is, until the clouds went away, and all we had left was a clear blue sky. _

_ "Now what?" I asked. Tyson's face lit up. _

_ "Play!" He exclaimed once more. He then got up, and ran towards the play set. My dad got up with fake difficulty. _

_ "I'm too old for this." He groaned. My mom playfully hit him. _

_ "No. You're not." She said. They then started holding hands. I fake gagged. I mean, it is seriously awkward having your parents act all lovey-dovey around you. _

_ "Can you please not do that around your children? Please?" I pleaded. They just shook their heads. _

_ "No can do, Perseus." My dad said, using my full name. I scowled. I didn't like my full name. I was about to retort, if not for Tyson. _

_ "You coming?" He asked. I gave my dad a look that says, _"this is not over,"_ but headed towards Tyson, nevertheless. _

My eyes fluttered open only to see bright red numbers blinking up at me. It read 3: 47. Even though it was practically the middle of the night, I can still hear Gabe and his "friends" still playing poker. This is a regular occurrence. They even sometimes pull all-nighters, because their game was "too intense." I immediately groaned, and then turned around on my bed, trying to fall asleep once more.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it. I got bruises on top of bruises once. Thank Gym and dodge-ball for that. On the plus side, however, I don't have to do Gym, anymore! I want a hippocampus plush. Sadly, I doubt they exist. Also, cloud-gazing actually is fun. I like it at least. <strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry. But this chapter contains _really_ bad poems, so beware!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. Nor do I own The Raven or Annabel Lee. Edgar Allan Poe does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven <strong>

(Percy's POV)

"Okay class." Mr. Blofis said. "For the first fifteen minutes of class, I want you to share your answers of the homework last night, with a small group while I do the attendance." The effect was almost immediate. Students started packing up their things, and headed towards their friends. Grover moved his seat, so that he was in between Nico's desk, and my seat. I turned around.

"What did you do for your poems?" I asked. Nico fake cleared his throat.

"_This is my haiku._

_ My haiku, haiku, haiku. _

_ How do you like it?"_

Grover and I both raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you serious?" Grover questioned.

"Nope." Nico said, and I let out a mental breath. If he was serious, then he would really need some help.

"Then what is it?" I asked.

"_I despise you all._

_ If you died, I wouldn't care._

_ Go fall in a hole."_

"That's not necessarily any better." Grover stated. Nico just shrugged.

"You do know that if we have to present this, Mr. Blofis might think you have issues, and send you off to a mental institute." I tried to reason.

"Who said I don't have issues?" Nico countered. "Besides, a mental institute is better than where we are now."

"How would you know?" Grover questioned.

"Any place is better than here." Nico said, as if it were obvious.

"True." I mentioned, and after a while, Grover also agreed.

"Your time is up." Mr. Blofis announced.

"Wow." I muttered. "We spent 15 minutes talking about Nico's problems." Grover and Nico both snorted.

"Would anyone like to share their poems?" Mr. Blofis asked. Drew immediately raised her hand. She was the only one. It was probably for attention, anyways. "Okay. Drew go ahead." She stood up, which was probably unnecessary.

"For, like, my haiku, it is:

_I am so beautiful._

_ I am the most popular._

_ Bow down before me."_

She looked around as if expecting applause. There was none, if you were wondering.

"Uh, Drew." Mr. Blofis said.

"Yes." She answered.

"The first line was six syllables." He pointed out.

"Oh." She looked disappointed. She was probably looking for some praise. Her face suddenly lit up. "How about pretty? _I am so pretty._ That works."

"Okay Drew." Mr. Blofis was probably too tired to argue. "You may sit."

"What about my artistic poem, or whatever." Drew exclaimed. I snorted in my mind.

"You mean acrostic?" Mr. Blofis corrected.

"Yeah, that." Drew said. Mr. Blofis sighed, but gestured for her to go on, nevertheless.

"Okay, so D stands for Dashing, R is for Rich, E is for Enchanting, and W is for Wild." Drew stated proudly.

"Thank you Drew for those... interesting poems." Mr. Blofis said. I mentally sorted, those poems were horrible. Drew sat down with a smug expression. "Anyone else who would like to share?" No one raised their hand. "Come on, at least one more person." Still nothing. "You only have to do one poem" He tried. "If not, I'll just choose someone." There were some sharp inhales, but still, no hand was raised. "Fine. I choose...Malcolm!" He looked shocked, but still got up. I exhaled, at least he didn't pick me. At least Malcolm was this really smart kid, so his poems should be somewhat good. He cleared his throat.

_"The clock is ticking._

_ You are running out of time. _

_ Hurry now before-" _

He suddenly stopped.

"Continue." Mr. Blofis urged.

"It's finished." Malcolm claimed. After seeing Mr. Blofis' confused expression, he continued. "Well, you see. My haiku is about how our time is limited, and we never know when it will run out. The last line ended abruptly because it symbolizes how we might run out of time, when it is least expected, or convenient. It's like how _An Imperial Affliction _ended in _The Fault in our Stars_. The last line ended in the middle of a sentence, because it shows how the protagonist either died or was too sick to write anymore."

"Interesting." Mr. Blofis contemplated. "Well, thank you Malcolm." He just nodded. "Okay, so for today, I am going to read to you some work from the famous poet Edgar Allan Poe."

"Who?" Someone from the back asked.

Someone else gasped. "How do you _not_ know Edgar Allan Poe? He's only one of the best poets of all time, known for his great tales of mystery and darkness."

"I have to agree." Mr. Blofis said. "Today I am going to read to you two of his poems. The Raven and Annabel Lee. For homework tonight, I am going to give you a worksheet on Edgar Allan Poe and his poems. So, I'm going to start off with The Raven and then Annabel Lee."

Once Mr. Blofis finished reading the poems, I couldn't help but find some similarities between Annabel Lee and my past of _her _and I. Besides the fact that she isn't dead, and I don't love her, I could draw some connections. Sure, I care about her, and would do anything for her, but I don't_ love_ her.

"There's still 20 minutes of class left, so you may use it to do anything you wish. Just try to keep the noise level down a bit." Mr. Blofis said. There were some cheers.

"So," Grover started, while turning towards me. "What did you think of Annabel Lee?"

I know what he was heading towards, but I decided to play "dumb." "Well, it is a pretty good poem, though the speaker is a bit creepy."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know that that is not what I meant. Do you draw any connections." He looked towards the sheet. I was a bit confused until I saw that one of the questions said "Text to Self." I sighed.

"No Grover, I don't." I lied.

"Don't lie to me. I know when you're lying. I know what you're thinking." Grover countered.

"Stalker much." Nico muttered from behind me. He was taking a nap.

"You're thinking of her, aren't you?" Grover asked, ignoring Nico.

"Why would I do that?" I questioned.

"Because the poem reminds you of her." He said.

"But I don't like her like that. I don't like her at all, anymore." I replied.

"You used to like her." He declared.

"Of course I did, she was my best friend." I reasoned. Key word, was.

"That's not what I mean. You had a crush on her. You _still_ have a crush on her." He claimed.

"No I don't Grover. Even if I did, I had no chance. She loved someone else, I was only her best friend, she never would've felt the same." I stated.

"I still think that you should've told her. All of our old friends did. You guys even had a ship name." Grover pointed out. I groaned.

"Seriously? Who started it?" I asked.

"Silena and Piper." Grover said. I groaned again.

"Really? What's up with you guys and my love life?" I questioned. He just shrugged.

"You two looked really cute together. With all the nicknames and friendly teasing, and whatnot." Grover stated.

"All of our old friends had nicknames and we always teased each other." I said slowly, hoping that Grover will get the message. He didn't.

"There was just something about you two that was special. Your relationship went deeper than a normal friendship." He claimed.

"We were in Grade Six, and younger, Grover. Feelings back then were practically infatuation or puppy love." I reasoned.

"If you two gave it a few more years, then it could've grown into more." Grover replied.

"For some reason, I highly doubt that." I stated.

"Well, all of our old friends saw it. Hades," he said. "Everyone saw it. It was just you two that never realized it because you were just too oblivious and in denial."

I sighed. "Seriously Grover. Can we just not talk about my love life?"

"Yeah." Nico added. "All this lovey-dovey stuff is making me sick. I think I already have a migraine coming."

"You couldn't have said that sooner?" I asked.

"It's funny seeing you flustered and uncomfortable." He stated.

"Your eyes are closed, though." I pointed out.

"Sure they are." He said mysteriously. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't raise your eyebrow at me!" He exclaimed.

"Okay." Grover slowly muttered. "That's kind of creepy."

"Who said Nico isn't creepy." I reasoned.

"Hey!" He protested. "I'm right here. I can still hear you."

"You have to admit it though." I told him. "You are kind of creepy."

"Yeah. I kind of am." He sighed. "I'm creepy and I'm proud of it."

"That was unnecessary and really weird." Grover mentioned.

"Oh well. We're all weird." Nico claimed.

I nodded. "Yes we are."

"Well, you guys are weird. I'm perfectly normal." Grover stated.

"No you're not." I said, slowly.

"You can't blame a guy for trying to be normal." Grover exclaimed.

"Yes, we can." Nico reasoned. I laughed a bit. Wow. This was one of our longest conversations. The bell suddenly rang.

"We spent 20 minutes talking about my love life, Nico's creepiness, and Grover's normalcy." I pointed out.

"Mr. Blofis did say that we can do whatever." Nico reasoned.

"Well, that was a 20 minutes well spent." Grover added. I laughed.

"Sure it was." I stated. Nico already left. "Oh and Grover." I lowered my voice. "I don't love her."

"Who said anything about love?" He replied. I silently cursed under my breath. "I only said like, so you love her." He started to leave.

I ran up to him. "No, I don't."

"Sure, sure." He said. "Whatever you say." Then he left. I glared at his retreating back. _No I don't,_ I thought. I could almost imagine him saying _sure_.

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><p><strong>Apollo must be so proud of my haikus. *wipes tear from eye* Sorry, once again, for their horrible-ness. Nico's poem was fun to write, though! It really came from the heart. <strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. Nor do I own The Fault in our Stars. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

(Percy's POV)

"Jackson." I heard a voice call out. It was lunch time, and I was heading towards the Latin room for lunch. I turned around and saw none other than Luke Castellan and his little friends. They reached me and surrounded me in a little circle. Five against one. How fair, right? "Where do you think you're going?" Seriously though, is that his little catchphrase? He says it _all _the time.

"To lunch." I replied.

"Really?" Ethan asked. "I never see you around in the cafeteria."

"It's because he's too small and skinny that he just blends in with thin air." Luke said, and they all laughed. Gods, they have a really bad sense of humour. "Anyways, did you do your math homework last night?" He asked.

"No." I replied. He didn't see through my lie.

"It's because he's too dumb to understand the questions, much less answer them." One of Luke's other friends' said. "Is that right?" I didn't answer him.

"See? He's so stupid that he couldn't even understand my own question." They all laughed, once more. I was pretty sure that they would have given some more verbal taunts, with a few physical violent acts thrown in as well, if not for a high-pitched, screechy voice.

"Lukey!" This voice screamed. I turned around and saw this random girl who looked like a Drew-wannabe. She had dyed blonde hair, with black roots, and blue eyes, that were probably contacts. This girl wore a _very_ short skirt, with a revealing top. No wonder she was Luke's "girlfriend" for the week. I turned around and saw Luke's friends with their eyes wide, jaw slack, and, was that drool?

"Hey babe." Luke said to her, while giving her a kiss. They then proceeded to make out. I was completely and utterly disgusted, so I reverted my eyes. After a good few minutes, they finally stopped.

"Who's this freak?" She asked, looking at me.

"Nobody." He replied. _That's right, _I thought. _I'm Nobody._

"What? Did he, like, get dressed in the dark?" She questioned. They all laughed. _No more than you did,_ I remarked in my mind.

"That was a good one babe." Luke complimented. "It's hot when you talk rude."

"Thanks, 'hon." She replied, and then they promptly started to make out again. Gods, does their whole relationship revolve around doing _that_ 24/7? It took them another five minutes to stop. "Well I would love to stay and chat," I snorted in my mind. Seriously? All they did was make out for 90 percent of the time she was here. "But, I have to, like, go meet up with my, like, girlfriends. We're going out to, like, Starbucks. Want to, like, come?" She asked Luke and his friends. I silently scrunched my nose up, at the amount of times she used the word "like" in her response.

"Sure, babe. We'll meet you in a few." Luke said. She then left, swaying her hips a bit. Gods, some people are just so conceited. I noticed Luke and his friends watching her, until the very moment she left.

"Dude!" Ethan exclaimed. "Where did you get one of those? I want one!" Seriously? Is this how they treat girls? As if they were toys?

"I know right? She's perfect." Luke responded, a bit dreamily. Is this their definition of perfect? Toothpick skinny, that cannot be natural, five inches of makeup, inappropriate clothing, ugly personality, and dyed hair with contacts? Well, I'm sorry, but my definition is _way_ different. Besides, nobody's perfect anyways.

"She really is." Ethan replied. I mentally rolled my eyes.

"What are you still doing here Jackson? Get lost. Go die in a hole for all I care." Luke remarked, while pushing me. I went off balance, then tripped and fell onto the ground. "God, you're pathetic." Luke and his friends then spat on me, with a few kicks for good measure. I groaned in pain, and they laughed in pleasure.

"Come on Luke, don't want to keep your girlfriend waiting. Besides, maybe her friends are as hot as her." Ethan reasoned.

"Yeah," Luke said. "Let's go. Wimp." He muttered to me, with one final kick. They then left. _Finally._ I would have just _loved_ to lay there and rock back and forth in pain, if not for the bell. I got up with difficulty, and limped to my Latin room, which was one floor down. _Great._ I managed to get down in time, even with _really_ slow people and one large flight of stairs.

"Sorry." I muttered to Grover and Nico, once I made it to my class.

"It's okay." Grover said, and Nico nodded. Although, both their eyes were filled with concern.

"It's okay guys," I reassured. "I'm fine."

"Yeah sure," Nico mocked. "'Fine.'" He said, while putting little air quotes with his fingers, when he said the word "fine."

"Tell that to your limp." Grover added.

"It's okay." I tried, once more. "It's not like we've _not_ been through worse, right?" They contemplated my question, and would've probably said more, if not for Mr. Brunner. I silently thanked him in my mind.

"You may work on your project for the whole period." He started. "Try to keep the noise level down, and if I see that you are not working efficiently, then I will give you other work to do. Okay?"

"Okay." Someone else said. Travis, I think.

"Oh my God." Someone shrieked. "You are quoting The Fault in our Stars!"

"What?" Travis asked, confused.

"How do you _not _know what TFIOS is?" The same person asked. I think it was Lacy.

"Okay, I'm confused." Travis stated.

"What else is new?" Katie muttered, but the whole class heard.

Travis pouted. "Katie-Kat," he said, using his nickname for her. "I thought you were on my side."

She sighed. "When am I ever on your side?" She asked.

Travis put both hands on his heart. "I am wounded. Like severely."

"Aww." Lacy cooed. "They're fighting like an old married couple!"

"Tratie!" Someone screamed. "Tratie" blushed till the point where they could compete with a fire-truck.

"Class." Mr. Brunner said, with a bit of a laugh in his voice. "As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm for books, and-ahem-'Tratie,'" they both blushed once more. "May you please work on your projects now?" The class nodded, then moved to their respective partners.

"You two used to be like that." Grover whispered, as he moved to Juniper's seat. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he was hinting at.

"No we weren't." I protested.

"Whatever you say." Grover said, and then he left. Gods, if there was one thing to say about Grover, is that he sure is persistent. I turned to Nico who had a confused expression on his face, but, thankfully, did not pry.

"So," I began. "For our project, do you want to draw the constellation, or me?"

"I will." He replied, almost instantly. I gave him a pointed look. "What? Do _you_ want to draw?"

"No." I stated. "It's just that you replied too fast. "

"Well, I just don't want you to draw." He simply responded.

"Why not?" I questioned.

"You're a horrid drawer." He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"As if you are any better." I retorted.

"I am." He stated.

"Nico," I started, with fake sympathy. "You need to lower your ego, a little bit. Don't worry, we'll all go through this together. You are not alone. Who knows, maybe Luke and Drew can join you."

He scowled at me. "I don't want to go anywhere near those things." I suppressed a smile. "Besides, they're far too gone into their ego, that I don't think that they can get back out. My ego, however, is very minuscule if you compare that, to which of my insecurity."

"True." I contemplated.

"What do I draw?" He asked.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"What?" He said, defensively. "It's not like we discussed that particular topic, yet."

"Fine." I muttered. "How about a sword or something?"

"How specific." He drawled.

"What? Do you have any better ideas?" He stayed quiet. "Thought so."

"So, a sword it is." He uttered, after a while.

"I guess so." I replied.

"What's the name?" He questioned.

"Why don't you try thinking of something?" I challenged.

"How about Omega?" He thought.

"It seems to simple." I said

"Riptide?" He asked.

I thought about it. "It seems a bit too familiar."

He shrugged. "Oh well."

I contemplated some more, then shrugged too. "Good enough. So you can start drawing, while I write the story."

"Okay." He said. "And don't you dare say 'okay.'"

I laughed, then started writing the story. "Wait," I exclaimed. "What's this person's name?"

Nico silently cursed. "Wow. How do we forget that?" I shrugged. "Oh well, just do whatever. Name him Bob for all I care."

"Bob. That works." I joked.

He looked at me with slightly wide eyes. "You're not serious."

"I'm dead serious." I lied, with a bit of a smile so he knows I'm joking.

He sighed in relief. "Thank the gods. I thought you were serious."

"I thought you didn't care." I pointed out.

"That doesn't mean that I won't care about our mark." He reasoned. "I will not take this story seriously with a protagonist named Bob. Who knows what Mr. Brunner will think? He'll probably think that we are being silly and take a few marks off."

"True." I said, after a while. "How about Jack Parker?"

"It's good enough. Just_ not_ Bob." He stated.

"What do you have against Bob?" I questioned.

"Nothing." He claimed. "It's just way too common and overused."

"Whatever you say." I teased, then started to write the story. _It was the final battle... _Then the bell rung. Great, just great. Just when I was about to start, I had to end.

"Bye." Mr. Brunner said to the class. I was already out the door, before he can say another word. I just _cannot _afford to be late to Mrs. Dodds class.

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><p><strong>Sorry if the amount of "likes" I used in the beginning annoyed you. It annoyed me too. Don't worry Bob, <em>we<em> love you! Anyways, I hope you liked it. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry if this chapter is going a bit too fast.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen<strong>

(Percy's POV)

Thankfully, I reached my classroom in time, just seconds before the bell. I looked around and realized that Luke wasn't here. He's probably off making out with his girlfriend somewhere. If he comes late again, or skips, then he is in for a serious punishment.

"Anyone know where Luke is?" Mrs. Dodds demanded. She took our silence as a "no." "He never showed up for his detention yesterday, and now he skips? God, teenagers these days." She probably didn't mean for us to hear, but we did, anyways. I don't know why, but it irks me when people always stereotype things. Take now, for example. Mrs. Dodds thinks that all teenagers are impulsive, greedy, illogical, rebellious people, that have no care for the society around them. Okay, sure maybe some are like that, but not all. That just has to give the people that are not like that, extra work to do, so that they don't fall under that stereotype. Another example would be that all blondes are "dumb." Or that all emo people cut. Maybe even just stereotyping girls as "weak" and boys as "rude" and a jerk. It just gives everyone extra unnecessary work that they never needed in the first place. Stereotypes might also lead people to take drastic measures, or to change. It branches off into all these larger issues that could've been prevented if people just _don't_ stereotype.

"Today we will continue learning the concept of slopes..." Mrs. Dodds drawled. I tried paying attention, but my ADHD got in the way. _Focus, _I told myself-no-I _forced _myself. The rest of math class passed by without a glitch, and with no Luke. "Complete questions #1-13 on page 167. Class dismissed." At least it is only half the questions we had yesterday. I filed out of the class with the rest of the students.

"Freedom!" I heard Connor shout, once he was out of earshot. I silently rolled my eyes at their immaturity. As I turned the corner, I stopped in my tracks. Luke was pinning Grover against the lockers, with his crutches laying a few feet away. I mean seriously, what kind of coward picks on the weak and vulnerable? Not that I would say it to Luke's face, or anything.

"Where are your little friends Underdork?" Luke taunted. Grover's eyes held fear, and I guess that's what caused me to muster any little courage I had to help him.

"Here's one." I whispered.

"What did you say?" Luke asked. He probably thought that Grover said it. Apparently Grover didn't see me either.

"Here's one." I said a bit louder.

Luke turned around. "Oh, Prissy. It's you." Grover's eyes held some relief, and some fear. Probably for me. Luke started walking towards me. "Why? Do you want some more beatings? I would gladly give you some."

I took a deep breath. I was _so_ going to regret this later. "Do whatever to me Luke. Just not to my friends."

"Oh that?" He said, pointing to Grover who looked at me with wide eyes. "He's your friend?" Luke laughed harshly. "Oh please. He's not your friend. He's just a loner that hangs out with another loner, because they have no one else."

"He used to be your friend Luke." I tried to reason.

Luke's eyes darkened. "Used to be, being the key term. That is until he started being a loser and I turned popular. Us popular people have no time for you wimps. You're just pathetic." He stepped so close, that I could smell his breath. "And you, Prissy. You. Are. Weak. You are useless. Nobody cares for you. Nobody loves you. Not even your own family. Your just a burden. If you died, nobody will care. Hell, they'd probably laugh. Your just a waste of space. Go. Die." He punched me in my stomach, and I grunted in pain. He landmarked right on another bruise. Luke curled his lip in distaste. "God, you're such a freak." He then left. _Finally_.

Grover walked up to me, with his eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" It occurred to me that he just stood there throughout the whole ordeal.

_ Does it look like I'm okay?_ I thought. "Yeah, I'm fine." I replied, instead.

"Why'd you stand up for me?" He asked, genuinely.

"You'd do the same." I reasoned.

He contemplated this for a while. "Come on. Nico will be wondering where we are." I only later realized that he never agreed with that statement. Sure, he didn't exactly disagree with it either, but a little reassurance would be nice.

The rest of the day passed by without anything extraordinary happening. Nothing happened at _Hestia's Hearth, _and nothing happened with Gabe. Well, not much. It was 9:45 and all my homework was finished. I hoped that maybe I could have a nice long, deep sleep, without any interruptions, but, it obviously didn't turn out that way. _Weak_, I heard Luke's voice echo in my mind. No, not now. Not after I have tried so hard to be strong. _Useless_, it still persistently continued. I tried shutting the voices out of my mind, with no prevail. _Wimp,_ Gabe's voice whispered. _Stupid_, Ethan said. _Freak, _said Luke's "girlfriend." Gods, I didn't even know her, but her words still managed to get into my head. The voices came faster now, and the words blended in together, so that I could barely make them out. _Loser_, the voices seemed to chorus together, now. _Pathetic. Dumb. _It's not my fault I have dyslexia._ Anorexic._ It's not my fault I'm neglected at home, and have barely enough money to support myself. _Burden. Geek. Nerd. _By now, I'm pretty sure my mind is making up stuff. _Loner. Emo. Outcast. It. Delinquent. Selfish. Coward. Waste. Greedy. Dweeb. Runt. Scrawny. Short. Skinny. Chicken. Retard. Twerp. Weirdo. _Now I start hearing other people. _We never loved you. _I hear my parents say. _Why do I even hang out with you? _Grover taunted. _I'm ashamed to have a cousin like you. _Nico revealed.

"Stop!" I screamed, while pulling at my hair. If Gabe heard anything, he didn't show it.

_He can't even handle slight criticism. _Mr. Blofis said. _Weakling. _Mr. Brunner agreed. _Do you even have any brain at all? _Hestia asked. _You're just a burden. _I hear Luke say once more. _Go die. _I heard _her_ say. For some reason, that really stuck to me. _Go die. _I heard the others chorus. _Go die. _Those two words seemed to just stick in my head, and repeat as if it was a chant. _Go die. Go die. Go die. _

"Stop!" I screamed once more. For a moment the voices faltered, for just barely a second. I gave myself a false sense of relief, before the voices resumed chanting. _Go die. Go die. Go die. _

"Stop." I said. "Just stop." By now, my voice was just barely a whisper. The voices in my head were much louder, now, and more persistent. _Go die. _I now, somehow, ended up in the sitting fetal position, with my head on my knees, rocking back and forth. If someone were to see me now, they would probably think that I had some serious issues, schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, or something. I don't know what the case may be, but what I do know is that this occurs quite often. It used to happen once a month, but then it declined to every few months. I was able to make it three months without this from happening, but I guess my improvement was cut short. If we had enough money, then I probably should go to the doctors', or something, but the voices just probably result from stress, depression, bullying, or whatever. _Go die. _I covered my ears, in an attempt to shut out the voices.

"Stop, please stop." I whispered. _Go die. Go die. What if I did? _I thought. The voices stopped for a fraction of a second, but still continued. Gods, they're persistent. I'll admit it. I thought about suicide before. Quite often, actually. But I never went through with it. One, because Luke was right. I am a coward. Second, because I always give myself false _hope_ that my life will turn out better again. There was this quote I once saw before. _Suicide does not end the chances of life getting worse. Suicide eliminates the possibility of it ever getting better. _I try to be strong, I try to keep living, but all my attempts are futile. I try to be happy, or at least fake a smile, but, it disappears as quickly as it came. No matter how hard I try, I will always be weak. I already know that I am cowardly. I already know that I am weak. When Luke says it to me, it isn't anything new. But, maybe it's the fact that others know, makes it all the more painful. When you tell it to yourself, there is always the possibility that it's just false, and a lie. When others say it out loud, however, it makes it seem real. It makes it more permanent.

I opened my eyes, only to find my vision blurred. I never realized I had been crying until now. The type of tears that were now falling were silent. They weren't the heart-wretched wailing that one may cry at a funeral. No, these type of tears are uncontrollable. They are involuntary. Sometimes, these type of tears are worse. It isn't _the _worst, but worse. There was this quote that said that the worst type of crying is when your soul wept. That no matter what you do, nothing could stop it, nothing can comfort it. You can only try to let it pass, or at least, try to conceal it.

_Go die._ Gods, I thought that the voices had passed, but I guess they didn't. _Go die. _Well, since I can't just _die _now, I'll have to go to the next best thing. While failing epically, I practically forced myself to go to the little bookcase on the wall, closest to me. _Thank the gods, _I silently thought. At least one good thing happened today. I looked at the bookcase, trying to blink the tears out of my eyes. There, on the second shelf, was a thin, red book. I pulled it out, only to have two other books fall onto the floor. Oh well, I'll just pick it up tomorrow. _The Happiness Advantage _by Shawn Achor, it read. Even though the book was just about success and how to better your performance, I laughed at the irony of it all. I opened the book to find it hollow. You didn't think that I would actually _read_ this book at the particular state I'm in, did you? Well, I wasn't. Instead, what was inside was much better, and helps much more efficiently, than a book about happiness. Because, inside, was a blade.

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><p><strong>So yeah. In the next chapter, it will actually deal with the self-harm, so if that makes you uncomfortable, then you don't have to read it. I hope that this is a good enough reason for him to want to "cut." Sorry if this chapter already somehow made you uncomfortable. Anyways, I hope you liked it. <strong>


	14. Chapter 14

**So yeah. Here's the chapter where Percy actually self-harms. If this triggers you, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read it. I don't really know much about self-harming, so if I get anything wrong, I apologize in advance. Warning: I got a bit...descriptive in some parts, and it might be "disturbing." I don't know. That's what other people thought. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen <strong>

(Percy's POV)

Before you question, yes I cut. Although, it's been quite a while since I last did. I was able to last three months. The last time was the last time the voices appeared. I lifted up the blade, until it was almost face-level. It was fairly small and pretty shiny. Although, there was still some dry, crusty blood on it, from the last time. I guess I didn't wash it. Whoops. On the surface of the blade, I could see my own reflection. A broken pair of sea-green eyes, stared back at me. Little tear stains ran across my cheeks, and my eyes were rimmed with red, with more tears threatening to fall. Absolutely and utterly disgusted with myself, I brought the blade down, until it was skimming the surface of my left forearm. Sighing, I edged the blade in deeper, while slightly moving it back and forth. I gritted my teeth, in order to muffle out any small screams of pain. After a few seconds, it cleared away. I usually didn't feel much pain after the first cut, but it's been a while. I wasn't used to it. I lifted up the blade, to look at my handiwork. A thin line, no more than three centimetres, started oozing with blood. Slightly satisfied, I brought the blade down again, only a couple centimetres from the previous one. This time however, I placed it on a slight angle, maybe 80° or so. I liked to mix it up a bit. I dug it a bit deeper, deeper than the last one. I did this same routine several more times, until there was about ten or so. I sighed, this wasn't good enough. Sure there was pain, but I grew accustomed to it. Suddenly, a great idea came to mind. I was going to do something new, something different. I shrugged off my sweater, until I was only in my t-shirt. The blade was brought towards my upper arm, between my elbow and shoulder. I placed it on a slight angle, and began to cut. This was repeated for a while, and then I was finally done. _WEAK, _it read, in my chicken scratch writing. Blood started dripping down my arm, from the "cut" words. Some fell onto the floor, and there was even a small puddle of blood near my leg. I was sitting cross-legged. There was even some blood on my leg. It was actually quite fascinating. I looked down at my arm, filled with cuts. Some blood was still oozing out, and dripping. I was awed with its beauty. The way that the blood seeps out of the wound, and trickles down my arm, onto the floor, or my leg. It was actually quite beautiful. Call me sinister, or disturbing, or whatever, but it was, interestingly enough, quite alluring. Just drawing me in, to make more cuts. To create more evil beauty.

I looked at the clock, and it read 1:27 A.M. Wow, I was cutting for that long? Well, I guess that all chances of having a nice, long, and peaceful deep slumber, are thrown out the window. I sighed, might as well just get ready for bed, now. A loud cheer ensued from downstairs. Gods, they're_ still_ playing their game? Losing sleep like that is not healthy. Although, it's not like I'm any better. I guess you can call me a hypocrite right now. But, then again, I don't care if I'm not healthy. I don't care if I get sick. I don't care if I die. No one will care. A sudden thought just occurred to me. I finally realized that the voices were gone. Just. Like. That. I guess that cutting helps in more ways than one. Am I right, or am I right?

I walked to the washroom, careful to not make any noise. I wouldn't want to disturb Gabe's little party, now would I? When arriving, I started to clean out my cuts with cold water, in order to try to stop the flow of blood. The water stung, but on the plus side, it just brought more pain. Red water filled the sink, draining into the hole. It was, once again, quite pretty. Like a little stream or river, but with blood, instead of pure water. You already know my obsession with water, so this little comparison shouldn't surprise you that much. After a while, the water turned back to its original colour, well somewhat, so I turned off the tap. I got some tissues to wipe off the blood, instead of the towel, just in case that there is still some blood. Once satisfied, I headed back to my room, put on my sweater, with some difficulty, may I add, and then, finally, crawled into my bed. The warm blankets surrounding me brought some warmth to my cold soul. It was quite comforting. My arm killed a bit, while trying to get into a comfortable position, but oh well. I'm used to pain, which includes physical, emotional, _and_ mental pain. After a couple hours of tossing and turning, I finally fell asleep. Only to have nightmares await me.

_I dreamt of the first time _ever_ that I cut. Surprisingly enough, it was by accident. It was in the fourth grade, and I had this project to do for science that required me to cut out something with an X-Acto knife, and my mother gave me one, trusting me enough to be careful. That was the first mistake. I started twirling the knife in between my fingers, and sometimes pretending to drag it across my skin. The thought of cutting always intrigued me, and I was curious about that concept. Even back then, I was pretty depressed. Although, I was always too cowardly to actually go through the cutting. So, while cutting out my project, a large clap of thunder startled me and then the X-Acto knife dragged across the back of my hand. The first thing that hit me, was the pain. My eyes watered a tiny bit, but I didn't full blown-out burst into uncontrollable sobbing. I went through worse, and this accident was actually pretty mild compared to that. After a while, the pain faded, but I knew that I had to disinfect the wound, and whatnot. I knew next to nothing about first-aid, so I went to my mom for help. I was fully aware of the lecture and consequences that might ensue from this, but I knew that her relief will overpower any anger. She's wonderful like that. I finally found her in the kitchen, making a batch of cookies. My mouth watered just at the thought of that. Her cookies are the absolute best thing in the world. _

_ "Mom?" I hesitantly said. _

_ "Yeah?" She replied. _

_ "I, uh, may have accidentally, you know, cut myself." I stuttered out. She turned around so fast, that I was surprised that the batter of the cookies she was working on didn't fall. That would be a shame. _

_ "You what?!" She shrieked. I, once again, stuttered out a response. She came towards me in just two long strides, gently taking my wrist. She shook her head. "What did I tell you about being careful?" _

_ "It wasn't my fault!" I protested. "Blame Zeus." She was fully aware about my obsession with Greek Mythology, so this wasn't a shock to her. She slightly shook her head, with a small smile, on her face. _

_ "Go run your hand under water for a few minutes, and then put this on." She handed me a bandage. I did as she asked, and walked back to her. She randomly engulfed me in a hug, and whispered into my ear, "Try to be more careful next time, okay?" _

_ "I'll try, mom." I reassured. She let go of me, and messed up my hair. I scowled at her, while trying to tame it. My hair is way overly messy as it is, so her messing it up even more, was totally unnecessary. She laughed at my actions, while shaking her head. _

_ "Go call your father and brother, the cookies are almost ready." She told me. I suddenly lit up. _

_ "Cookies!" I exclaimed. She laughed even harder, and then I suddenly heard some stomping. Tyson ran through the door, with my dad following close behind. _

_ "Did I hear cookies?" My dad asked, acting all serious-like. My mom and I just full blown-out laughed, and soon enough Tyson and my dad joined in too. It were days like those that I missed. Back when my family was still cheerful, and not dysfunctional. _

_ My dream suddenly changed, into one less positive. I was sitting in my room, with the lights off, and the curtains drawn. My back was against the wall, and tears were streaming down my face. The pain, it just hurt so much. I looked down at the blade, debating whether or not to use it. After a while of internal debate, I finally decided to use it. I brought the blade towards my skin, and dug it in. The process of cutting was foreign to me, so I wasn't sure if I went too deep, or not. Or if I cut in an unsafe location. But, then again, I don't think it really mattered. The pain was pretty intense, but also a bit relieving, if that made any sense. I looked at the wound, and blood was seeping out, almost immediately. More cuts were made onto my arm, and I wasn't able to go past four or five, before I started to hear voices, coming near my room. Panic started to consume me, and I didn't even have a chance to dry my cuts, clean up my mess, hide the blade, or anything. So there I was, caught red-handed, with a blade in my hand, blood running down my forearm, and a little puddle of it on the floor. My mom looked at me with disappointment. _

_ "I thought you were stronger than this, Percy." My mom quietly said. At those words, I completely broke down. All the pain, all the hurt, just came crashing down. _

_ "I'm not, mom! Can't you see? I'm not strong." I cried out to her. _

_ "Shh." She comforted, while hugging me. "Shh. It's alright, baby. Everything's all right."_

_ I shook my head. "No, it's not. Nothing is all right. Nothing will ever be all right."_

_ She ignored my words. "It's okay, baby. Just let it all out." I cried even harder, and I never even realized that my mom was crying too, until I felt my shoulder wet. It never occurred to me that she would be suffering, too. Maybe that's what motivated me to stop crying. She was trying to comfort me, when she was hurting, herself. She tried to be strong for me, when all I am is weak. Gods, I'm selfish. _

_ "Thanks mom." I said. She gave me a watery smile. _

_ "It's okay. Just promise me that you will never do it again." She asked-no-__pleaded. _

_ I gave a shaky breath. "I-I'll try." She looked at me, with tear-stained cheeks, knowing that she won't get anything else out of my mouth. _

_ "Goodnight, baby." She whispered. _

_ "'Night, mom." I told her. She then left the room, and I just collapsed onto the floor. _

I woke up with the numbers 5:38 A.M. blinking up at me. I continued laying down on my bed, just staring up at the ceiling. My scars from last night throbbed a bit, and I could almost imagine my mother's disapproving look, staring back at me.

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><p><strong>It's weird. When I wrote this chapter, my left arm actually throbbed a bit. Anyways, I hope you liked it. <strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**ATTENTION DEMIGODS! I HAVE GREAT NEWS! THERE'S A PERCY JACKSON APP! **

**Good. Did I get your attention yet? Oh well. So yeah, there really _is_ an app. It's called Demigods of Olympus, and is available for iPod, iPhone, iPad, and Google/Android. I'm not sure about other devices, but it's worth a shot. So basically, in the app, you can create you own demigod by reading a story (made by the master himself, Rick Riordan) and it gives you these choices, that determines some of your aspects. For example, your strength, weakness, and identifier (i.e. birthmark). I'm not sure if the story changes depending on your choice, but I doubt it. The sad thing though, is that you have to pay as you go. The actual app is free, but you have to pay around $2.99 (where I am, I'm not sure about other places) to continue getting more "stories." Once you complete the first story, you don't get your Olympian parent, but instead the aspects I said above, so that's why you continue. I'm not pressuring you to buy it, but if you're interested, go get it. If you think this is a scam, just go to Rick Riordan's Twitter: camphalfblood (sorry, the "at" button doesn't work). More information is there. Or you can go to his Tumblr. In the app, you don't get to create your own name. There are a bunch of options that you have to choose from. For example, my name is Ashley Waters! Like Augustus Waters from TFIOS? Well, not really, but let me think what I want! So yeah. If you really read all that, then I appreciate it. Sorry for the long Author's Note. Without further ado, here's the chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. The magnificent Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

(Percy's POV)

I went to school the next day with red, swollen, bloodshot eyes, and an extra long sweater. Thank the gods, that it was still pretty cold outside, even if it was March. Nobody noticed my tired eyes, or they just didn't care. Even Grover and Nico didn't question it, but I was pretty sure that they noticed. We still talked and joked the same, even more-so than usual. I laughed and talked more today, than any other day, even including the whole of last week. I involuntarily gave myself a false sense of hope that maybe everything is turning out right again. Maybe, with the help of Grover and Nico, I can somewhat be cheerful again. If only I knew how totally wrong I really was.

One week later, Grover informed us that Juniper asked him to sit with her during lunch. He looked so happy, that Nico and I just couldn't say "no" to him. Once we gave him our permission to go, he grinned widely. He thanked us a million times, and then ran off to the cafeteria, as fast as his little crutches can take him.

"And then there was two." Nico muttered. I laughed a bit. Grover sat with us the next day, then with Juniper the next, and it just continued alternating like that. We didn't give it much thought, and still hung out the same. Nico and I didn't really mind that much, just as long as Grover remained our friend. That is, until Grover missed the day he was supposed to sit with us during lunch. We just shrugged it off once more, stating that he just probably ran into Luke or something. After lunch, that same day, we found Grover sitting with Juniper, at her table for Latin. They only had three people there too, and Grover took up the fourth seat. We tried motioning for him to come sit with us, but he ignored us. After that little scenario, Grover just stopped hanging out with us totally, and started hanging out more with Juniper's clique. I mean they are nice and all, and are really compatible with Grover, but I just miss my best friend. Or, should I say ex-best friend. Sure Grover talks with us, but very seldom. It's like we are strangers that barely know each other, but still act politely. He left me, just when I thought that he was here to stay. I never would've thought that he'd be one of those people who would do that. At least I have Nico, or at least, that is what I believed.

Nico and I were currently eating our lunch outside of our school, Goode High. Oh, the irony of it all. The reason that we weren't eating outside of the Latin classroom, is that someone planted a stink bomb in that hallway, so our class has temporarily moved to the library. Gods, some people are just so immature. Little snowflakes started to descend from the sky, and I caught one on my tongue. Sure, some people might argue that this little particle might contain pollution, due to the sky, but right now, I don't care. Why is there snow in March, anyways? Shouldn't spring come, anytime soon? Oh well, I blame humans and Global Warming. When worse comes to worse, you always have these two factors to blame. The snow lightly covered the ground with white. There was still some leftover snow from the last snowfall, so this new coat just adds to it. Great, just great.

"I'm moving." Nico suddenly blurted out.

"What?" I asked, hoping that I heard it wrong.

"I'm moving." He said a bit louder this time.

"Why?" I questioned.

"Well, my dearest step-mother thinks that I have 'problems,'" he put air quotes, when he said the word problems. "So, she signed me up for this therapy slash boarding school type of thing, that I have to attend in the fall. When she told my dad, he agreed whole-heartedly, so I really have no say in the manner."

"We can still hang out..?" I tried, though it sounded more like a question, instead of a statement. He shook his head.

"It's in L.A., California, so I'm moving there this summer." He sighed.

_And then there was one,_ I silently thought in my head. "It's okay." I reassured him.

"But what about you?" He asked. "No offense, but I don't want you to be a loner."

"It's okay." I said, once more. "I'll just find some other loser clique that will accept me." It meant to come out as a joke, but he didn't see it that way. "Fine. What about this? We just ignore this issue for now, and then deal with it the week before the end of school. Sounds like a plan?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "Sure." He replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "Why not?" We fell into a comfortable silence, and then the rest of lunch passed without a glitch.

The rest of the school day passed in the blink of an eye, so I was now heading outside, to meet Nico where we ate lunch. I was almost there, until somebody randomly grabbed my arm. It throbbed in pain, since my cuts still didn't heal yet. I gritted my teeth, so that I don't have to cry out.

"Where are you going?" A voice demanded behind me. Luke. I turned around, and sure enough he was there.

"Outside." I replied.

"Why? Meeting up with your little friends? Oh wait, you don't have any." Luke and his little gang laughed. By now, a little group of students surrounded us. I stayed silent.

"Why? You can't hear me? Does my words go through one ear and out the other? That is very likely, since you have nothing in between them." They laughed once more, and some students even joined in.

"Luke, why don't we go somewhere more private?" I asked. His eyes narrowed.

"Oh, feeling a bit brave today, huh?" He mocked. "Hmm. How about no? I want you to be publically humiliated in front of the whole school. How about that?" He was about to aim a blow to my stomach, but stopped halfway through.

"Luke?" Someone called out. The speaker stepped out of the crowd, and Luke put up a fake smile. Others probably thought it was real, but I could see straight through it. After all, I am practically the master and encyclopedia of fake smiles. The person who spoke up was a girl, probably Luke's new girlfriend. Although, I can tell she is different. For one, she actually dresses modestly. She doesn't wear too much makeup, and she looks confident in a good way. This girl is actually naturally pretty, not that I like her in that sense. Two, she doesn't speak so flirtatiously, seductive, and screechy. And three, when Luke tries to kiss her, all she gives is a slight peck, no big make-out session. She looks sort of familiar, but I don't know from where. Although, I think she was one of the new transfers.

"But, baby." Luke tried to plead.

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't call me that. I have a name, use it." I think my respect for her just grew. "Anyways, why are you here?"

It was his turn now, to narrow his eyes. "Oh, just teaching this little punk here, a little lesson." He directed his eyes at me. She looked at me as if she just realized I was there. I didn't blame her though. I am usually always invisible, unless attention is directed at me.

"What did he ever do to you?" She asked. I blinked in surprise. She was actually standing up to Luke. For me?

"He existed." Luke retorted. His little cronies and some students laughed. But, she didn't, and I silently thanked her for that.

"And...?" She questioned.

"What do you mean?" She caught Luke off guard. I admire her for that.

"And...what? His existence is no good reason to bully him." She retorted.

"I'm sorry, what?" Luke looked confused.

"Oh my God, why am I even dating you?" She asked.

"Because I'm hot." He stated, proudly.

"And you're conceited? God, was I delirious when I agreed to date you?" Some students laughed.

"But, baby..." She cut him off again. I guess she was on a role now.

"And you call me baby. On our first date, you said I looked hot. Do you have any respect for girls at all?"

"Of course..." He was cut off once more.

"No you don't, you treat girls as if they are toys, and not actual human beings. Why am I even dating you?" She practically spoke my thoughts.

"Why _are_ you dating me?" Luke asked. Wow, I wasn't expecting that. She clearly didn't either, but she managed to regain her composure in time.

"Because I thought that I'd be different." Luke was stunned, and so were all of us. "I thought that maybe, I can get you to change your ways. Maybe, I can turn you back into the old Luke I once knew." So they had a history. Gods, this is way too much drama and plot-twists, for my particular taste. "But, I can't. Nothing can change you back." She sighed. "We're through." Everyone was shocked once more. No one, and I mean no one, _ever_ breaks up with Luke. He's always the heart-breaker, not the "heart-breakee."

"What?" Luke asked.

"We're done. Finished. Through. Do you need a text to get it across your thick skull? We. Are. Through." She spoke slowly, as if talking to a little child. She's putting Luke in his place, I respect her for that.

She started walking away, but Luke called her back. "But, Thals." I was shocked. My jaw was on the ground. My eyes were the size of saucers. She-she...

"Don't call me Thals. Only my friends and the people I actually_ like_, can call me that." She then walked away.

Luke cursed. "_You_." He said pointing at me. "_You_ did this." Before I can actually retort, he punched me in the stomach, harder than usual. The wind was knocked out of me, and Luke took that to his advantage. He continued landing blows, and once I was on the ground, he started kicking, too. This particular beating was worst than any other, before. Maybe he was fueled with rage from his break-up. He usually doesn't react this harshly, but maybe it's the fact that he was broken-up with, and it was in front of the whole school nonetheless, that got him hyped up. Or there was always the possibility that she _was_ different. Maybe Luke actually liked her, but he just acted all "play-boy" like in public. Though, I really shouldn't jump to conclusions. Luke kicked me a couple more times, and I think I even started choking up blood. I spat it on the ground, and Luke actually stopped. It was never this severe, before.

"Luke, that's enough." Ethan stated.

Luke spat on me and kicked me one last time. "Let's go." Everyone started dispersing, once Luke left. Not one of them tried to stop the torture, they just stood there, and watched. Did they obtain joy, while watching my misfortune? Do they like seeing me in pain? Although, do you know what hurt the most? It's not when Luke started beating me up, even though it hurt like Hades, it's not when no one tried to help me. No, it was when a certain person, who goes by the name of Grover Underwood, just stood there, and saw me suffer. _"You'd do the same for me."_ I remembered I said before, when I saved Grover from Luke. There was a reason he never answered, it was because he didn't agree. He wouldn't help save me, he'd rather save his own self. It's the pain of losing someone who was once your best friend that hurts the most. I guess when my mom said that my fatal flaw would be personal loyalty, she couldn't ever be more right.

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><p><strong>So now Thalia is brought in! She doesn't play a big role, so sorry. There won't be any Perlia or anything. Also, sorry for making Grover a bad guy, it just needed to be done. If you didn't read my AN in the beginning, please do so. **


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. Nor do I own The Giver. Lois Lowry does.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen <strong>

(Percy's POV)

"Hey Nico." I asked. "Did you know that Thalia is back?" We were, once again, eating lunch outside.

His eyes widened. "She is?"

I nodded. "She actually stood up for me. Yesterday, with Luke."

"She never told us anything." He stated.

"We _did_ lose touch a couple years ago." I reasoned.

"True, true." He agreed. Here's a little background information. Thalia Grace, nicknamed "Thals," is another one of our cousins, but is the child of Zeus. Us three were actually pretty close, and had some little cousinly arguments. She never really liked her family, and she only stayed because of her brother, Jason. Although, once Jason was out of the picture (no one is really sure what happened to him) she ran away. Along the way, she found Luke, and they ran away together. Although, they eventually had to return home, and properly attend school. They met, once again, in the same school, and became fast friends. It was only a couple years ago, that Thalia was accepted into this all-girls boarding school, called the Hunters of Artemis. After that, everyone just lost connection with her. Although, now, apparently, she's back, and is enrolled in Goode High.

"Should we say hi, or something?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe we wait until the right time? Do you even think she remembers us?" He questioned.

"She probably does. I mean, we are pretty hard to forget." I joked. Nico smiled a little bit.

"How about this? What happens, happens." He reasoned.

"Because we live the spontaneous life." I exclaimed.

Nico smiled. He then made a little hashtag sign with his fingers. "Hashtag Rebellious." I laughed. Sometimes, we like to mock social media. No offense.

"Hashtag Impulsive." I said.

"Hashtag Hashtag." He uttered. I snorted.

"Hashtag Really Hate People."

"Hashtag Done With Life."

"Hashtag Really Hate Hashtags."

"Hashtag Offended."

"Hashtag Really Don't Care."

"Hashtag Demi Lovato."

"Hashtag How Is That Relevant?"

"Hashtag It's Her Song."

"Hashtag Can We Stop."

"Hashtag Never."

"Hashtag Please."

"Hashtag Fine."

"Thank you." I said, relieved. "Too many hashtags are really annoying."

"Hashtag offended." He stated. I gave him a pointed look. He put his hands up, in a fake surrender. "Fine. What do you want to do now?"

"Nothing." I replied.

"But, isn't doing nothing, technically doing something?" He reasoned.

"I guess, but oh well." So that's what we did. Absolutely nothing for the rest of the lunch period. Well that is until Nico started randomly singing to the music he was listening to.

"Wake me up, when September ends." He sang. I gave him a look, but his eyes were closed. "Here comes the rain again." He continued. I nudged him. "What?"

"You're singing out loud." I stated.

He shrugged. "Wake me up, when September ends." So Nico just continued on, randomly singing Green Day, for the rest of the lunch period. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Nico and I packed up our things, and headed towards the library.

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><p>It is now Sunday, and Gabe is not home. He usually stays at his friend's house until late in the afternoon, so I have some time to kill. Sundays are my off days at work, so I just stay outside, anywhere, until 6:40 P.M. and pretend that I am working. For today, I decided to just go out to Central Park. I usually just sit down on a bench, bring a good book, and just read. So that is what I did. There was this bench, underneath this tree, that is my favourite spot. It's a pretty secluded area, and no one can see me, but I can see them, not to sound like a stalker, or anything. I realized that the book I got was The Giver, so I just re-read it for the nth time. A sudden shriek of laughter disturbed me from my reading. I saw this guy who was giving a piggy-back ride to this girl. They were probably sixteen or seventeen. I recognized the guy as the same person who was waiting for someone at <em>Hestia's Hearth<em>, a few weeks ago. Well, it seems as if his friend finally found some time to spend time with him. It was actually really nice out today, and the snow is starting to melt. The trees are already starting to have little buds growing on them. It was no wonder they wanted to hang out today. I saw that the boy left, probably to go get something, and the girl just stood there waiting, kicking at the snow. The boy finally returned, and I saw the girl's face light up. I didn't need Rachel to know that the girl has a crush on the guy, too. It seems as if they are having a picnic, even with the snow. I didn't really judge them, I might've done the same thing. Not to sound like a creeper, but I continued watching them. They continued eating their meal, and then they began to talk. Suddenly, they stood up, and started taking a walk, around the pathway.

As they got closer to my area, I heard the guy say, "You know, Kayla."

"Yes, Christopher." So that's their names.

"There's this girl," he started, I saw Kayla's shoulders droop. She doesn't know that he's talking about her. How sad. "Who I've known for a really long time, and whom I started to develop feelings for. I really want to tell her I like her, but I don't know how. Maybe you can help?"

"Sure." She said, though I can hear the disappointment in her voice. "Why don't you try calling her, so I can know more about her. Maybe you can tell her then." There was much more fake cheerfulness in her voice now.

"Why not?" He stated. Christopher then took out his phone, and dialled a number. Kayla's phone then rang.

"Wait hold up, I have to answer this. Hello?" She asked, into the phone.

"I like you." Christopher said.

Kayla then started grinning ear to ear, and replied, "I like you, too." She hung up the phone, and hugged the life out of Christopher. I looked away, because this is a tad bit mushy, and too personal and private, for me to intrude. At least he got his happy ending. Well, it's more like a happy middle, or start, but at least he has some portion of his life, happy.

There were other couples out there that were doing couple things, and families, also. Little kids were playing tag, and older kids were playing sports like football and basketball. Seriously though, even if there was a few feet of snow, or something, some people will still play basketball. They are just that dedicated. I also saw little old couples, holding hands. There was even this one pair, where the wife was in a wheelchair, and the husband was pushing her. It is people like those that show that not all marriages end in divorce or separation. Some people are actually faithful, and literally love one another. It gives hope. I saw families cloud gazing, like how my family used to do. Maybe if I just- I laid down on the bench I was sitting on, not really caring how other people might view me.

"I see the letter S." I whispered to myself. Sometimes I liked to create stories out of the cloud images I see. "And the letter J." I thought of the possibilities, and nearly gave myself a face palm. Gods, is this what I was doing with my time, when I can be doing something productive? I checked my watch and it read 1:35 P.M. I still have like 5 hours, or so to visit. It's a half an hour to 45 minute walk there, so I might only have three hours to actually stay. That should be good enough. After an agonizing 35 minutes, I finally arrived. The sign read Sunnyside Hospital, which was a tad bit too cheerful for my taste. I entered the doors, and the smell of pastries and coffee overpowered the weird smell of hospital. It was a great improvement.

"Hello Mr. Fletcher." I greeted. He waved at me, in acknowledgement.

I took the elevator to go to the third level. On my way, I passed by Mrs. Yew. She works here as a doctor, but her son, Michael, is a patient here. He had an almost near death experience from this explosion, and Mrs. Yew has been working non-stop, trying to save her son. After a few minutes, I reached my destination. Room 712. I was about to open the door, but was stopped by Mr. Apollo.

"How is she?" I asked, concern filling my voice.

"She's doing well." He stated, and I sighed with relief. "There are some possibilities of her waking up, but it is still inconclusive."

"That's somewhat good, right?" I questioned.

"It's good." He said. "I just thought that you would want to know. "

"I did. Thank you." I announced.

"No problem," he replied. "You may go see her now." I opened the door, only to find that she looked the same. Her skin was a bit too pale, but at least her heart is pumping at regular intervals. I brought a seat up near her bed, and sat down.

I took her hand in mine, and whispered, "Hey, mom."

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it. Oh who am I kidding? You probably hate me for doing what I did to Sally. As a matter of fact, you might hate me for the last few chapters. There's still like eight left in this story, and then it's done. <strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. I also don't own some of the quotes mentioned in this chapter, or Waiting for Superman. I really don't know if my interpretation of that song is right, but let's just say that it doesn't matter...?**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen <strong>

(Percy's POV)

There was this book I once read that said, if you talk to someone, while they are in a coma, there is always the possibility that they might hear. Even the doctors here, encourage you to talk to them.

"Hello." I said once more. "How's it going? I'm sorry." I suddenly blurt out. This always happens, I always apologize. "Well, life for me is terrible. Gabe is terrible, school is terrible, the students are terrible, everything is terrible. Grover left me, Nico is moving, but on the plus side, Thalia's back. But, the thing is, I never talked to her. She stood up for me once, to Luke. Thalia dated Luke for a little while, can you believe that? I couldn't. But then they broke up. I'm sorry." I say once more. "I tried to be strong. I made it three months, but then I cracked. All the hurt and pain, came back to me, even the voices. I had to release it somehow. It's okay if you're disappointed, _I'm_ disappointed in myself. I'm weak mom, it should've been me in a coma, not you. I miss you, mom. I miss you, dad, Tyson, Grover, Thalia... Hades, I even miss _her_. But she changed, she's not the little girl I once knew, and maybe even had a teensy bit of feelings for. I remember how you always used to hint at us, saying things like how we looked so cute together, and whatnot. Geez mom, we were only in the sixth grade, maybe only 12 or 13 years old. Who dates at that age? You were crazy. But, then again, we all were. Craziness is what keeps us together. I cloud gazed today, and saw your initials. It reminds me of this song I once heard. What's it called...Oh yeah, Waiting For Superman by Daughtry. It's a pretty good song. Well, I like it. I should somehow play it to you, next time I come. I would sing it, but I doubt you want to hear that awful thing that can wake up the dead, also known as my singing voice. The song also has a pretty good moral, too. It's saying how we all need a hero to help save us, no matter what, or something, but he's not always going to be there.

"Dr. Apollo said that you are doing well, and might wake up. I'm still waiting for that day. Hades, I'm still waiting for _myself_ to wake up five again. Back when my life wasn't so complicated and messed up. Why can't life just always be like that? I understand that we are put on Earth for a reason, but what is it. That's practically the million dollar question right there. I'm pretty sure my purpose is to just serve as a punching bag, and be a burden. We are put on Earth as a test, right. Somewhere where we test our abilities? Isn't there also this hypothesis that says that maybe Earth is hell, or in other words, The Fields of Punishment? I can actually agree to that statement, considering how awful this life is. I'm pretty sure that this can be one of the tortures that are in The Fields of Punishment. Though, I'm pretty sure for some people, Earth is Elysium, to them. I'm still trying to find one person like that. But, there are 7 billion people in this world. I barely know 1%, not even 0.05% personally. There has got to be at least one person out there that lives in complete bliss, with no worries, no suffering, and are perfectly content with their life. Although, I highly doubt that there is one, even out of 7 billion people. I mean we will always have regrets, we will always think about what could have been, and we will always suffer. It's inevitable.

"They say that love is the universal language, but I have to disagree. Sadness should be the universal language, because we will always experience sadness. Not everyone feels loved. There are those that are neglected, or just forgotten, so they don't feel loved. But they are sad, maybe even depressed. Everyone goes through some part of their lives where they are completely and utterly sad. Where they feel as if all hope is lost, and that they can never be happy again. Although, once you go into that stage, permanently, then it probably goes to depression. There was this quote by Barbara Kingsolver from her book _The Bean Trees: "There is no point treating a depressed person as though she were just feeling sad, saying, 'There now, hang on, you'll get over it.' Sadness is more or less like a head cold- with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer." _Sadness may be temporary and can easily go away, but depression is permanent, and takes a lot of effort, determination, and support, to get through it."

I laughed, though it wasn't filled with cheer, it was full of despair. "I was supposed to talk to you about trivial and unimportant things. Not rant to you about philosophical questions about life. But, then again, ranting can count as talking." I got out of my chair, and walked towards the window. A light rainfall had just begun. It's 3:40 right now, so hopefully the rain will stop, by the time I get home. Although, if I didn't worry about getting sick, I would've just loved walking in the rain.

"It's raining right now." I told her. "It's actually quite beautiful and mesmerizing. After all, the sky cries for those filled with sadness." I said, reciting one of these quotes I saw. I loved the view outside of this window. I could just barely make out some green that is Central Park, and a bunch of buildings, and roads, and stuff. It shows two worlds that are so close, yet so divided. The peaceful, quiet, and serene landscape of the park, compared to the hustle and bustle, and busy, 'city that never sleeps.' The sharp contrast just shows how different we can really be, in just one body. My stomach started to randomly growl, reminding me that I didn't have lunch, or breakfast, for that manner.

"I'll be back." I informed her. "I just need some food." I stepped out of the room, into the hallway. It was pretty empty, but I wasn't that scared. There were no flickering lights, ominous sounds, mysterious stains, or anything. It was just normal, with a bit more silence than usual. I took the elevator to go down to the first floor, so I can go to the cafeteria. Once I arrived, I realized that they were giving out free apples. Probably because, 'an apple a day, keeps the doctor away.' I got like two apples, and voila! There's my meal for the day. I washed the apples in the washroom, which were surprisingly pretty clean, and ate in the cafeteria, since no food is allowed in the hospital room. The apples were actually pretty good, and I was somewhat full, after one and a half. I finished my second apple, and washed it down with some water from the water fountain. After my hands were cleaned, it was around 4:20. I decided to stay until 5:40, so I still have an hour and 20 minutes.

"I'm back." I told her, as I entered the room. "Who knew that apples can be so filling? They weren't even that large, too. Now, I know that you would probably give me a lecture on how I'm not eating enough food groups, or enough in general, but hey, at least I'm eating healthy." I sighed. She wouldn't be able to lecture me, either way. "Gods mom, why do you have to be so selfless? It should be me in a coma, not you." I say, once more. "You had a lot going for you. You could've found someone else other than Gabe who treats you way better. You deserve that. Gabe doesn't deserve you, _I_ don't even deserve you. You don't deserve a filthy creature as your husband. You don't deserve a depressed and suicidal son. You deserve happiness and joy. Not in a coma, still possibly on the brink of death. Why must all the good people be taken away, or given horrid lives? Not that I'm saying that I'm a good person, but you are. Gods, you are the best person in the world. I might be biased, but everyone who knows you, would also agree. It still remains a mystery to me why Poseidon," I barely referred to him as dad, after I found out about the affair. "Would want a divorce with you. How could he find someone better? There is no one better than you. After all, how can someone be better than the best? Maybe he just thought that he didn't deserve you. That you were too good for him. That explanation makes sense. But, you loved him. When he was about to leave you, you were heartbroken. There are all these cliché love stories out there based on young love, but there are few that actually apply those particular plots to adults, as the main idea. Sure some movies have it applied, but those only have it as a portion of the film, not for the whole thing. Besides, in the end, they all live _happily ever after_. You deserve a happily ever after. After all, you had a sad beginning and a bittersweet middle. It's only fair for you to have a happy ending. But, then again, life's not fair." I looked at my watch and it read 5:37. Perfect timing. "I should probably go now." I told her. "I'll see you soon." I walked over to her bed, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Sweet dreams." Wow. Now I feel like a parent.

I quietly walked out the door, and into the hallway. Sad thing for me though, I didn't have sweet dreams that night. As I lay in my bed, while hearing Gabe's snoring from all the way downstairs (yeah, it's that loud), I couldn't help but think about today's events. After a while, though, I finally fell asleep. Only to have nightmares about that day. The day that caused Sally Jackson to fall into a coma.

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><p><strong>Ooh. Small cliff-hanger! Well, it actually wasn't that bad compared to a certain book (*cough* Mark of Athena *cough*). Anyways, I hope you liked it. <strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**I don't know anything about medical procedures, so please excuse any mistakes in this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Nor do I own the songs and quotes mentioned in this chapter. They all belong to their respective owners. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen<strong>

(Percy's POV)

"Every little thing that you do, Baby I'm amazed by you..."_ The song _Amazed_ by Lonestar started blaring out of our car speakers. We were heading towards the grocery store, to get some, well, groceries. My mom and I absolutely love this song, so we started to sing along to it, while going very off pitch. It was during the summer in between Grade Six and Seven. _"Every little thing that you do, I'm so in love with you. It just keeps getting better..." _We sang, while laughing uncontrollably at our horrid singing skills. The song finally ended, and my mom turned down the volume a little bit, only to have to turn it up again. _Heaven_, by Bryan Adams started playing. _"Oh- thinkin' about all our younger years..." _Only later did I find it ironic that this was the last song she ever heard. The song is all about love, and how this person is in heaven. Well, life isn't heaven. They should know this by now. Oh well. The technicalities, don't make a huge impact on the greatness of this song. Suddenly, my mom stopped singing, and then turned to me with a grave expression. _

_ "You know I love you, right?" She asked. I nodded. She was my mom, her love for me is sort of mandatory. "So you'll forgive me for doing this."_

_ "Mom," I started to panic a little bit. "What are you talking about?"_

_ "I love you, baby." She stated. _

_ "I love-" That was all I managed to say before my mom took off her seatbelt, and threw herself onto me. I wasn't able to realize what was happening, before car lights filled my vision, a large, rattling sound, an immense pain, and then... darkness. _

_ I woke up (in my dream) only to see a really bright white. I thought I could've been dead, until I started to hear voices. _

_ "He's starting to wake." Someone stated. Is he talking about me? My vision finally cleared, and I saw some doctors hovering over me. They all sighed in relief. _

_ This one doctor, no older than thirty, introduced himself. He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes. "Hello Perseus. I'm Dr. Apollo. How much do you remember?" Suddenly, it all came rushing into my mind. The singing, the store, the crash, the pain, my mom... Wait, where is she? _

_ "Where's my mom?" Panic started to seize me. "Is she all right, tell me she's okay."_

_ Seldom looks passed around throughout the doctors, with probably one thought on their minds, _"He remembers." _It was Apollo who told me the news. "She's alright... somewhat. She suffered most of the injuries, and you got out with only a couple scratches. Nothing major. Mrs. Jackson is undergoing surgery right now, and it is unclear if she's going to make it." Tears started to spring into my eyes, but I fought them back. I was not going to cry. Not here, not in front of others. I wanted to get up, but the doctors held me down. _

_ "Let me go!__" __I screamed and thrashed. "I need to go see her!"_

_"Later." Apollo reasoned. "You're too weak right now. Get some rest, and when you have enough energy, I will allow you to visit her, okay?"_

_"Fine." I grumbled. The doctors left the room, so I was all alone. I can distantly hear_ Heaven _playing on the speakers out in the hall. _"And baby, you're all that I want. When you're lyin' here in my arms. I'm findin' it hard to believe, we're in heaven..."_ I sang, well, muttered. I can't believe that it was just yesterday, or a few days ago, or whatever, my mom and I were just acting so "young and wild and free." The calm before the storm, I guess._

I woke up just before dawn. The sky had faint streaks of pink and orange, and the sun was just below the horizon. It was beautiful. As I walked to school, I took a chance to look around. Spring has just started to bloom. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the trees and flowers are beginning to bud. There is something about the way that spring starts. It's like a new birth after the death of winter. Spring is like the New Year. A chance to start fresh and anew. It's a chance for you to just forget all about the snow and cold, and begin again. I for one wish that I can forget all about the winter that happened a few years ago, because that event kick-started my life spiraling downwards. Slowly, and then all at once.

"Hey Nico." I said, once I arrived at Goode High. He nodded in acknowledgment. We headed towards our English classroom, and we arrived after a few minutes.

"Hey Percy?" Mr. Blofis started. "May I talk to you?" Panic started to envelop me, but I nodded, nevertheless. "How's Sally doing?" He asked, once I arrived.

"She's doing well." I replied. Mr. Blofis is the only other person, besides Gabe, obviously, that knows that my mom is in a coma. He was actually one of the bystanders at the scene of the crash. Mr. Blofis was the first person to call 911.

He sighed in relief. "That's good. I would come, but I'm too busy these days."

"It's okay." I reassured him. Mr. Blofis actually _visits _my mom, as opposed to Gabe, who doesn't give a care about her.

"You may sit down, now." He told me. I did as he requested. As strange as it seems, Mr. Blofis and my mom actually had a history, together. They went to the same university and became fast friends. They lost touch after my mom met and married Poseidon. I knew that Mr. Blofis actually had some feelings for my mom, but he never told her, because of her love for Poseidon. Once Poseidon was deemed dead, and my mom married Gabe, Mr. Blofis, I could tell, was heart-broken. Having the woman you love get out of your grasp, _twice_, is really sad. And then she went into a coma, with the possibility of never waking up, so Mr. Blofis might never actually have a chance to tell her his feelings. Now, all he can do is let the guilt and regret eat up his insides.

The rest of the school day passed without a glitch. Luke wasn't in school today, for reasons unknown. It's only after school, when things got interesting. I was on my way to meet Nico outside the Latin classroom, since the stink was removed. I was almost there too, that is, until I bumped into someone, which caused them to drop their books. _Gods,_ I thought. _Cliché much?_

"Oh my gods." The person whom I bumped into said. "This is so cliché." I blinked in surprise. Not only was it the fact that the voice sounded familiar. It was also that they practically spoke my thoughts out loud, and that they said "gods," instead of "God."

"Sorry." I muttered, while picking up their books. They also helped. A flash of blond flickered in the corner of my eye. I looked up and saw none other than _her._ Annabeth Chase, my ex-best friend. She looked the same. Honey-blond hair that went loose around her shoulders, in princess curls, with stormy grey eyes, that incredibly darkened when angered or annoyed. They were immensely dark right now. Although, the difference was the fact that she was wearing _makeup_. Something that the old Annabeth I used to know wouldn't be caught dead in. I just barely registered the fact that this is the first conversation we had, ever since we stopped being friends in the winter of the sixth grade.

"It's okay." She replied. She still didn't look at me yet. I handed her back her books, and that's when she first noticed me. No spark of recognition flickered in her eyes. I didn't blame her though,_ I_ wouldn't recognize myself if I compared myself to back in the sixth grade. Although, her eyes were filled with curiosity, as if she was analyzing me. Deeming to see if I was good enough for her acquaintance. She held out her hand, for me to shake. "Annabeth Chase." She introduced herself.

"I know who you are." I stated, without shaking her hand. She wasn't surprised, but she did awkwardly put her hand back down. Annabeth is, after all, one of the "populars" of this school. Everyone knows who she is. Well, who she is now. Now, she is way different than the girl I used to know. The Annabeth I used to know didn't care about popularity. She would much rather sit in the corner of the library, with a good book. The Annabeth I used to know didn't care about her looks. She would just happily throw on any clothes that are clean, and do her hair up in a quick ponytail. Everyone just knows about the new Annabeth, they have no care for her past. They don't know the fact that she used to be bullied. They don't know that her mother died when she was still a child. They don't know that she used to be neglected by her family, when her dad got married, again. They don't know that she wants to be an architect when she grows up, because she wants something permanent. They don't know that I was her best friend. But I know, and I can never forget. After all, how can you forget someone who gave you so much to remember? All those memories, I had to push them down, into the very dark corners of my mind. I can't bring them up now, not in public, not in front of her. I turned around to leave but she called me back.

"Wait, I didn't catch your name." She said.

"That's because I didn't say it." I retorted. "Bye Annabeth." I started on my way to leave, and this time, she didn't stop me.

"Dude." Nico exclaimed, once I arrived. "You know Annabeth Chase?" I was a bit confused, as to how he didn't know, until I remembered that he came the year after Annabeth and I broke off our friendship of about eight years.

"Of course I know her. Everyone knows her. She _is_ popular, you know. And in our English and Latin class." I reasoned.

He shook his head. "No I meant personally. You looked as if you two had a past. So I'm going to ask it again. Do you know Annabeth Chase?" I vaguely remembered this quote. _"Someone asked if I knew you, a million memories flashed through my mind and I whispered,_

"Not anymore."

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><p><strong>And now Annabeth is here! Remember, no Percabeth, or any ship with Percy. There will be some past-Percy and Annabeth moments in the following chapters, but they won't actually get together. If you didn't actually know that <em>her<em> was Annabeth, then...I don't really know what to say. **


	19. Chapter 19

**Hehe. Making the cover for this story was actually kind of fun. Once again, sorry for no actual Percabeth in this story. Besides, the way that the story ends kind of makes that unlikely ;). I just gave you a huge spoiler right there. Oh well. It was inevitable. There are only five chapters left in this story. Anyways, for the lack of Percy/Annabeth moments in this story, here's some Percabeth angst! Probably not what you wanted, but...this story was pre-written. Warning! I got a little teary eyed while writing this chapter. Sorry that it's kind of short. It's basically just a flashback/dream. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen <strong>

(Percy's POV)

To think that the Fates would be kind enough as to give me a nice dream, after a stream of continuous nightmares, and bad luck during the day. But, _no_. They just had to make me dream of that day during the winter of the sixth grade. The day that Annabeth Chase stopped being my best friend.

_"Hey Wise Girl." I greeted, using my nickname for her. We were in Central Park, at the very spot where we first initiated our friendship. This was the first day in ages, that we got to hang out. _

_ "Hello Percy." She replied. I realized that she didn't call me Seaweed Brain, back. It was her nickname for me.__ That was when I knew that something was wrong._

_ "What's the matter, Annabeth?" I asked. _

_ "Nothing's wrong." She responded, a tad bit too quickly._

_ "Annabeth." I said, seriously. "I knew you for eight years. I know when something's off." She looked at me, and I saw her eyes starting to water. Annabeth Chase never, and I repeat, _never_, cries. Without a word, I engulfed her in a hug. We were so close that I can smell her lemon-scented shampoo, and that I got this queasy feeling in my stomach, as if I were going to throw up. Gods, what did I eat? Though, I somehow knew that it wasn't something like that. This feeling is uncontrollable, it's involuntary. "Did Luke do something?" I asked. Annabeth had this major crush on Luke for years, and they had just started to date recently. Once again, who dates at age 12? That's the reason we didn't hang out recently. What she didn't know, however, is Luke's darker side. The side that just loves to bully and hurt other people. All she sees is this perfect, innocent Luke, who wouldn't hurt a fly. Whenever I try to reason with her, all she does is defend Luke, then we'll get into this huge fight, and then ignore each other for a couple days. Well, this fight is a good example of it. Except this time, we ignored each other, _permanently_. _

_ She stepped back from our hug. "Why do you always think that Luke has something to do with this?" She screamed. _

_ I was a little taken aback by her sudden outburst. "Did he?" A tear slid down her cheek. I wanted to wipe it off, if not for the fact that she might kill me, and that she was someone else's, I would've. _She's not mine._ I always have to remind myself. _She never was.

_"He told me that I can't be friends with you, anymore." She revealed._

_ "So he did have something to do with this." I stated. _

_ "That's not the point." She shouted. By now people started to stare, but I ignored them. "Why do you always blame Luke?" _

_ "Why do you always defend him?" I questioned._

_ "He's my boyfriend." She reasoned. _

_ "I'm your best friend." I remarked. _

_ "Well, right now, you're not acting like one." _

_ I was a little taken aback. "Excuse me?" _

_ "You heard me." She said. "You are not acting like a best friend, right now. A best friend is supposed to be supportive of your other best friend." _

_ "A best friend is supposed to trust your other best friend and pick them, instead of their boyfriend." I countered. _

_ It was her turn now, to say, "Excuse me?"_

_ "You heard me. Who was the person who comforted you when your mother died? Who was the person who you went to when you had a fight with Luke, or one of your other friends? Who always stayed by your side and never left? Who kept all your secrets and promises? Luke?" I asked. _

_ "You don't know him like I do." She whispered._

_ "But does he know you, like I do?" I questioned. _

_ "He told me to choose. Either him, or you." She stated. She changed the subject, but oh well. _

_ "Who did you pick?" I asked. She muttered something under her breath, that I didn't quite hear. "What?"_

_ She looked up, and I saw her cheeks stained with tears. "Him. I chose him."_

_ "Why?" I questioned, my voice choking with emotion. _

_ "He's my boyfriend." She said once more. _

_ 'I'm your best friend." I whispered. "Best Friends Forever, remember? You promised, Annabeth. I never thought of you as one who would break their promises."_

_ "Promises are meant to be broken."_

_ "You wanted permanent, Annabeth. Do you really see permanent with Luke? He has a new girlfriend every other week." Even back then, he played girls. _

_ "I'm different." She reasoned. _

_ "Because you knew him longer? He changed, Annabeth. He's not the boy you once knew."_

_ "He is!" She screamed. "I can change him back."_

_ "He's too far gone, Annabeth." _

_ "No he's not." She yelled. "What do you have against him anyways?" _

_ "Oh, besides the fact that he verbally, physically, and emotionally abuses me every day? Gee, let me think." I said, sarcasm practically oozing from my mouth. _

_ Her face turned red with anger. "When will you stop with this lie? It's not funny, Percy." _

_ "Why would I lie?" I somewhat screamed. "Why would I lie about this? Is this a lie?" I said pointing to my face, where a bruise formed from Luke punching me. "Do you think I did this to myself? Or how about this?" I rolled up my sleeve, where another bruise formed from Luke's tight grip. "Maybe this." I rolled up my jeans to show a bruise, and some cuts, from where Luke "accidentally" kicked me. "Is this whole thing a lie? Think about this, Annabeth. When did I ever lie to you?" _

_ She shook her head. "This isn't logical."_

_ "Stop thinking about logic, Annabeth. Try listening to your heart, no matter how cheesy that sounds. Stop listening to your brain." _

_ "You're lying." She said. _

_ "Why would I lie?" My voice sounded broken, now. "Tell me Annabeth. Was this," I motioned between us. "A lie? Was our whole friendship a lie? All the promises, and late night chats. All the tears and laughs. Were they all a lie? Did you ever really care about me at all?" _

_ "Of course I care about you, Percy."_

_ "Then why do you pick Luke over me?" _

_ "I-he," She stuttered. "It's complicated."_

_ "Try me."_

_ "Luke, he was always there for me. He cared for me, when no one else did. He's all that I have left." _

_ "What am I, then? I was there for you. I stayed, Annabeth."_

_ "You're eventually going to leave me, just like everyone else."_

_ "And you think that Luke will stay?"_

_ "I have to believe that."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "I choose to believe that!" She yelled. _

_ "And you don't choose to believe me?" I countered. _

_ Her eyes hardened. "No. I don't." _

_ "Why not?" _

_ "Because, right now. I just can't."_

_ "You're being illogical, right now, Annabeth."_

_ "Oh, you're talking to me about being illogical? _You_ are illogical Percy. Why do you think I call you Seaweed Brain. You never think, and are way too impulsive. Do you ever try to think things through. Do you even have the capability?" I flinched throughout every word she said. Usually, whenever Annabeth mocked my intelligence, or lack thereof, she was just being friendly. But right now, she's like Luke. Cold and merciless. _

_ "You're right." I said. "Why would someone as smart, intelligent, and successful like you, hang out with a loser like me?" It seems like it was only then that she figured out what she said. _

_ "Gods, Percy. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it."_

_ "Yes, you did. Otherwise, why would you say it? Even if you didn't want to say it. you were thinking it." I sighed. "You know what, Annabeth? I'm sorry. I'm sorry for trusting you. I'm sorry for comforting you. I'm sorry for caring about you. I'm sorry for trying to make you happy. I'm sorry for staying."_

_ "Then why did you?" _

Because I like you. _"You're my best friend, Annabeth. I care about you. Even if you stop being my best friend, it doesn't mean I stopped being yours."_

_ "If you're so sorry about it, then why don't you just leave?" _

_ "Because, that's what you want me to do. You always tell me how people always leave you, but sometimes, you're just pushing them away."_

_ "Just go, Percy."_

_ "Annabeth..." I started._

_ "Leave, and don't come back!" She yelled. _

_ "You don't mean it..." I tried to say. _

_ "Yes I do! I never want to see you again! Go fall in a hole for all I care!" She screamed. I winced. Even my best friend, or ex-best friend, doesn't want me around. _

_ "You wouldn't care if I died?" I asked. Once again, it looks as if she just realized what I said. _

_ "Percy..."_

_ "No, you mean it. If you want, then I'll just leave. That's what you wanted right?" She slightly nodded. "If that's what makes you happy, then I'll just go." I turned around to go. "Goodbye Annabeth."_

_ "Goodbye Percy." She whispered, and that seemed final. We sometimes just ended our conversations like that, during any other time, but this particular one hurt. There was this particular quote I once saw before that said, _"The only time that goodbyes are painful, are when you know that you will never say hello, again."_ Well, this goodbye hurt, and we never said hello again. _

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><p><strong>Sorry for making Annabeth a bad guy in this chapter. I just had to do it. Also, sorry for the excessive OOC-ness. Anyways, I hope you liked it! <strong>


	20. Chapter 20

**IT'S PERCY'S BIRTHDAY TOMORROW! Sorry, I just felt the need to remind anyone who forgot. And the Greek Gods is coming out too, on Tuesday! Yay! Okay, so in this chapter, there is some past-Percabeth fluff. Probably one of the only, in this story. Mind you, I'm not that good at writing fluff, so just bear with me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Risk Riordan does. Nor do I own the songs in this chapter, or any quotes in italics. They all belong to their respective owners. I also don't own _Messenger_, by Lois Lowry. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty <strong>

(Percy's POV)

It is now Friday. Gabe has gone off to his friend's house, and I never encountered Annabeth or Thalia for the entire week. Now that Annabeth is back in the picture, after years of trying to forget her, she has been on my mind a lot. I'd always think about the happy memories and the sad, but I can never stop thinking about her. Even with that big fight, I still miss her. When Luke broke up with her, after not even two weeks of dating, we both never made any move to repair our friendship. It was permanently broken.

I had no school today, so here I am, lying on my bed, waiting till 3:30, so I can go to work. It was raining outside, and I didn't really feel like wanting to dance in the rain, today. So there was really only one option left, that is not homework. I got up from my comfy bed, with difficulty, may I add, to walk to my bookcase. No, I was not going to read, although that isn't a half-bad idea. Maybe I should do that too. Well, my original idea was to find this particular book and go somewhere. I scanned the top shelf for this particular book, and after a couple seconds, I finally found it. A thick red book, with absolutely no title. Did that come off a little flat or anticlimactic? Oh well. Now I just need a book to read. I closed my eyes, and pointed to a random spot. It was _Messenger_, third in The Giver series. Good enough. I went back to the red, title-less book, and pulled it. Something clicked, and the bookcase popped out. I went to the edge of the bookcase and swung it outwards, because behind the bookcase, was a hidden room. Amazing, huh? Well, I was fascinated by it.

Only four people, besides me, know about this secret room. My mom, dad, Tyson, and Annabeth. She was the first and last person, outside of our family that knows about this. Gabe doesn't even know, so that's why this area serves as a little sanctuary for me. A place where I can just escape reality, and pretend to be normal, and not dysfunctional. This room is probably the same size as my bedroom, and has a window, with a skylight on the roof. Sometimes Annabeth and I would just come in here, lie down on the floor, and stare up into the skylight. We usually do that on days when it rained, so we can see the rain fall on the skylight, and make the all too familiar pitter-patter sound that we like. Today was the perfect day for doing that, so that is what I did, the book laying forgotten beside me.

The ugly brown walls of this room were filled with little quotes and pictures, and whatnot, that we just tape or glue on. Some of them fell onto the floor, due to the stickiness wearing out. There are even some drawings on the walls, courtesy of Tyson. Everyone contributed to the pictures on the wall. We even have a stack of paper, tape, and some pens in the corner, so that, just in case that when we are in here, and are bored, we just do whatever to that paper, tape it onto the wall, and voila! There are a lot of blank spaces, due to not enough contribution, since I'm the only person left to visit here. I sighed. I got up, and went to the stack of papers in the corner. There were some cobwebs on it, but I didn't care. I got a sheet, and wrote this quote I once saw before. _People Change. Memories Don't. _I ripped it off, and taped it on this blank piece of wall. Great, now there's a new one. I wrote down another one. _My worst enemy, is my memory. _I placed it on the wall.

I was just about to write another quote, or at least sketch something, but my eye caught on something. It was this little infinity sign with SB in one half, WG in the other, and a plus sign in the middle. SB stood for Seaweed Brain, and WG stood for Wise Girl, and an infinity symbol for forever. There was another one with SB+WG in a little circle. A circle has no beginning or end, so it was supposed to symbolize forever. While others used hearts, we used infinity symbols and circles. While others used their initials, we used our nickname initials. We're different and unique like that. Maybe one day, we'll make it a trend. But, then again, these symbols mean forever. It means commitment. I thought of this other quote I read before, but I changed it to suit this situation. _You promised to be forever. But please warn me when your forever starts to end. _I, once again, taped it to the wall. That's enough for today. I walked back to my previous spot, and laid down on the floor. Gods, this place brings back so many memories.

_"Percy!" A ten-year-old Annabeth shrieked. _

_ "Yes, oh dearest Wise Girl?" I asked, feigning innocence._

_ She glared at me. Even back then, it was pretty scary. "Where's my iPod?"_

_ "You tell me, you're the Wise Girl."_

_ "Well, I say that you have it."_

_ "As always, thou art correct." I said, in a fake British accent. _

_ She laughed and held out her hand. "Give it." _

_ I pretended to think about it, while stroking an imaginary beard. "I don't think so." _

_ "Percy." She warned. _

_ "Fine." As I handed it over, I may have "accidentally" pressed play. _Cinderella,_ by Steven Curtis Chapman, started to play. _"She spins and she sways..."

_"I love this song!" Annabeth exclaimed. She then started to dance and sway a bit to the music. While feeling a bit courageous, I grabbed her hand, and twirled her. She laughed, and I couldn't help but laugh, too. Pretty soon, we just started swaying a bit to the music. After a few minutes of swaying, the song suddenly changed into this _really_ upbeat one. It was _She's So High, _by Tal Bachman. I gave her a pointed look, and she scowled. "I'm going to kill those twins." She was referring to her twin step-brothers. _

_ "Come on, Annabeth. It's a good song." To prove my point, I started jumping around, and dancing to the music. She laughed at my antics. _

_ "Gods, you're a horrid dancer." She stated. But, pretty soon, she too, started dancing to it, while flipping her hair._

_ "Like you're any better." I countered._

_ "I am." I rolled my eyes, but stayed silent. She was. After that song, _You Belong With Me, _started playing. Annabeth started singing along. _"You're on the phone with your girlfriend-she's upset..." _I didn't stop her, she was actually pretty good. She started dancing, and sometimes copying the movements in the music video. I just watched her, not to sound like a stalker. After a while she stopped, and looked at me. "What?" She asked, defensively. _

_ "Nothing," I replied. "Continue, you're pretty good." Her cheeks coloured a little bit, but continued, nevertheless. At one point, she just grabbed my hands, and we started dancing together. So that's what we did for the rest of the day. Just randomly jamming out to the music on her iPod, and dancing, while singing _very_ off-key. Once this song, that I didn't know, came on, Annabeth suddenly stopped. _

_ "What's the matter?" I asked._

_ "This-this was my mom's favourite song." Her voice cracked a bit. "It played at their wedding." _

_ I hugged her. "It's okay."_

_ "Why does everyone have to leave me? First Mom, then my dad started neglecting me, and then..."_

_ "Shh." I said. "I'm still here. You have my family, who already accepts you as their daughter, and you have me. I'll always be there."_

_ She gave me a watery smile. "Thanks. I'll be there for you too." If only she knew that that was a lie. _

_ "Come on." I said. _I'll Be, _started to play. "This is a good song."I took her hands, and we swayed to the music a little bit. _

_ "I wondered what all the ruckus was all about." Said a voice behind us. We turned around so fast, that I was surprised we didn't hit our heads together. My mom was there, holding a camera, while grinning from ear to ear. I'm pretty sure I was as red as a tomato right now. _

_ "How long were you there?" I asked. _

_ "Long enough." Was her cryptic answer. "You two are so cute together!" She gushed. _

_ "Mom!" I yelled. She just laughed. _

_ "We're only friends." Annabeth reasoned. My mom just waved her off. _

_ "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You two are just so adorable." _

_ "Mom!" I yelled once more. _

_"Okay, I'll just go now. Have fun." She said, as she walked out the door. _

_ "Well, this is awkward." I stated._

_ "No duh, Seaweed Brain." She replied. It was my turn now to laugh, and pretty soon, Annabeth joined in. _

"Gods, I miss those days." I whispered to myself. I looked at my watch, and it read 2:57. I guess I should go now. I picked up my book, put it back in the bookshelf, and pushed the bookshelf back into its position. As I headed out of my bedroom, I could almost see the little ghost figures of the younger version of Annabeth and I just swaying in the middle of the room. And for once, in a while, I smiled. A true, genuine smile.

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><p><strong>I actually did my research for this chapter. All the songs mentioned should have been released before Percy and Annabeth were ten. Yeah, I really wanted to be accurate. Anyways, I hope you liked it. <strong>


	21. Chapter 21

**Is it bad that I actually did my research for this chapter? Like for the flowers and stuff? Well, I wanted it to be as realistic as possible. I didn't really proofread this chapter as thoroughly as I tend to, so please forgive any mistakes. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One<strong>

(Percy's POV)

"That'll be $9." Katie told me. She worked as a cashier at Demeter's Garden, which was this pretty popular flower shop. The smell of various different flowers, filled the store. All the different scents shouldn't really have gone well together, but they somehow did. Anyways, I handed her a ten dollar bill, and she gave me one dollar in change. She then gave me three dyed-blue roses, in this little wrapping paper. Katie informed me in advance that it was dyed, but I didn't care. It was blue. "Who's it for?" She asked me.

"My family." I replied.

She got a confused look. "You mean your mom?"

"Well, her, my dad, and my brother." I responded. Thankfully, she didn't question, but that didn't mean that another person won't.

"Your dad and your brother?" Travis asked. He worked here because "he needed more money." But, truthfully, he probably just wanted to get closer to Katie. "What, are they gay or something?" I flinched.

"Travis!" Katie scolded.

"Or maybe bi." He contemplated.

"Travis!" Katie reprimanded once more. "Go to the back."

He pouted. "But Katie-Kat."

"Now." She demanded. He went to the back, with his head held low. No matter how sweet Katie may seem, she can actually be pretty scary. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay." I told her. I never had anything against Katie, anyways. Besides, at least she tried to help. I started to walk to the door.

"Have a nice day." She said. _I hope so. _

"You too." And then I left. The hospital was pretty near to Demeter's Garden, so I went there first. Once I arrived at my mom's room, I realized that someone was already in there. It was Mr. Blofis. I just decided to sit in the chairs outside of her room, to wait. I still had a view of what was going on inside the room, and I could hear what he was saying. Mr. Blofis was sitting in the chair by her bed, holding her hand. I didn't mind, Mr. Blofis is a good person, anyways. If it was some other random stranger or _Gabe_, however, then I might have went in and give them a stern talking to. Maybe I would've even pulled out one of the doctor's tools or thrown a chair. Who knows?

"Hey Sally." He greeted. So he just arrived. "I miss you. I'm sorry I won't be able to stay that long, maybe a couple minutes at most. These English papers won't just mark themselves, you know. Percy's a good kid." I froze at the mention of my name. At least he was saying some good things. "He just needs you in his life. I need you." He whispered. "I guess I should go now. I'll see you later."

Mr. Blofis got out of the chair, and was about to leave the room, but stopped. It looked as if he was having a little internal conflict with himself. Finally, some part of him won, and he walked back to her bed. Mr. Blofis kissed her on her forehead, and whispered, "I love you." And then he exited the room. I blinked. Wow. I knew that Mr. Blofis had some feelings for my mom, but I never knew that it went so far as to love. When he saw me, he froze in his tracks. "How much did you hear?" He questioned.

"Enough." I said, trying to fight back a smile. He probably knew what I meant by that and blushed deep scarlet.

"Don't tell anyone of this." He warned. Well, it was more like pleaded.

"I don't have anyone to tell." I replied truthfully. He seemed satisfied with that answer, and then left. I walked into the hospital room, and placed one of the blue roses in the vase, on the nightstand near her bed. I noticed that there was already something in it. A red rose. I don't know if Mr. Blofis knew the meaning behind it, but he probably did. It means love.

"Oooh." I told her. "Someone has a secret admirer. Well, it's not that secret anymore. He just told you that he loved you. Imagine how hard it would've been on him, trying to tell you that. He has courage, I'll give him that. I can't stay that long, I have to also visit Dad, and Tyson. I got you, and them, blue roses by the way. Dyed, obviously. Mr. Blofis has been asking non-stop about you, you know? He really does care about you. If- When," I corrected. "You wake up, you should dump that creature known as Gabe and give Mr. Blofis a chance. Sure it'll be awkward, but as long as you are happy, I'm happy. I guess I should go now, so bye." I would give her a kiss on the forehead, but Mr. Blofis already did that. So I settled for a kiss on her cheek.

It was a twenty minute walk from here to the cemetery. Once I saw the all too familiar gates, with a sign that says "Pluto's Cemetery" with a boat underneath, that was supposed to represent Charon's boat, I sped up my walk, a little bit. I already memorized the route to their gravesites, that I could do this with my eyes closed, or during the night time. But, then again, who goes to graves at night? Well, maybe Nico does.

As I walked along the pathway, I saw some families, dressed in all black, going to a freshly dug site. For every name on a tombstone I see, I wonder what was their story. Not to sound disrespectful or anything, but how did they die? What was their life story? How is their family doing? Are they still grieving? Did they move on? Do they just feel broken inside? Do they fake a smile to hide the true pain? Are they okay with their death, but still miss them? Do they know that they are in a better place?

I think I even saw some names that I know. There was Esperanza Valdez, Emily Zhang, and others. I tried not to think of them as much, because I knew them. I don't want to bring up preventable pain. I even saw Bianca Di Angelo, Zoë Nightshade, and Athena Chase. That one made me stop in my tracks. I should have brought her a flower or something, even though I barely knew her. Now that I think about it, I should have brought all of them flowers. But, then again, I don't have enough money. Maybe next time, if there is a next time.

Although, I did notice that there was already a flower on Athena's grave. It was this purplish-gray sterling rose, that was actually really pretty. After approximately seven minutes, I started to see my dad's and Tyson's tombstones. I sped up from my walk to a jog. I finally reached it, after a several seconds.

"Hey." I said, a little breathlessly, while putting the flowers down, one for each grave. Their tombstones were beautifully decorated. My mom and I picked out the design, ourselves. The tombstones were made out of a light grey stone, with little wave designs etched in a sort of black shade. It was water themed, it you haven't already guessed. There were also some little sea creatures swimming across its surface.

If I ever got to choose my own tombstone, I would want black marble, with a water-theme, decorated with silver. Hopefully I don't sound that creepy stating the type of tombstone I want. I noticed some flowers already there, and I just passed it off as someone they once knew, remembering that today was the sixth year mark of their presumed "death." It was a bouquet of blue water lilies. Wow. The person who brought them must have known my dad and Tyson pretty well.

"How's it going? I'm doing just terribly." I said with fake cheerfulness, and some sarcasm was practically being oozed out. "I really miss you guys. Tyson, buddy. You didn't deserve this. None of you did. You should've had a nice, long, peaceful, and successful life. You had that type of potential. Me? All I see in my future is death, dirt, grime, and who knows? I'll probably turn out to live on the street. I'm not joking. You, Tyson, you could've found a nice, loving wife, and then you'll get beautiful children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Then you'll pass off, peacefully, in your sleep, with no suffering and no pain.

"It should have been me who died, not you. You had potential, I don't. All I am is a burden to those around me, and no one will care if I die. Everyone I cared about left me. My life is just on a rollercoaster ride that just goes downwards, with tons of bumps along the way, each one worse than the last. It's hard to believe that life will get better, when you have a life like this. I try to be strong. I try to be optimistic, but I'm weak. I can't deal with this pain. I need to end it.

"I understand if you are disappointed. _I'm_ disappointed. But it's okay. I don't deserve your care, and love. I'm just a burden. It's just better off if I die." I didn't realize I was crying, until tears blurred my vision. All the pain, all the hurt, all the betrayal, just hit me like a stack of bricks. I thought I saw a flicker of blond at the corner of my eye, but it disappeared just as quickly. So, as I lay there crying at a gravesite, completely and utterly broken, it was then that I finally came up with a decision. I, Perseus Jackson, am going to commit suicide.

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><p><strong>Yes, yes. There it is. The inevitable ending. *wink wink* Did a truckload of feels hit you in this chapter? I tried. Anyways, I hope you liked it. *laughs cruelly*<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**Do not take my advice on killing methods in the first part of the chapter. Just, don't. Also, there are some...morbid thoughts here, so beware!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two<strong>

(Percy's POV)

You know how some peoples' act of suicide is spontaneous? Well mine isn't; mine is going to be planned. It's going to take place the morning of next Sunday, since Gabe doesn't even come home until late afternoon. I'm going to ask Hestia to have an off-day on the Saturday before, so that it can be my Last Good Day. I'm going to spend that day as if it's my last, which it technically is. I will do whatever I cannot do on any other day, and I will not have any regrets afterwards. I'll just die with the guilt.

I will obviously have to say some goodbyes, which will be my last ones. I will never say hello again. Maybe I will even write a will, who knows? Well, I technically have barely anything to give, so it's more like a suicide note. Explaining why I did it, and whatnot. The only thing left to decide is how my method of dying is going to be. I thought about drowning. You know, die in the place where I'm most happy? But there are a lot of faults with that one. For one, someone might see, and save me. Two, I can always, somehow, be saved. And three, I will always come up for air. If I have the capability to do it, then I will. Drowning is unpredictable and not reliable.

Pills are also unpredictable. Someone might see me, and save me. Hanging seems a bit too...morbid and gory. So all that's left is cutting and bleeding to death. Unless someone wants to donate large amounts of blood to a suicidal person, I doubt that they would want to save me. Besides, it's like going out with a bang. With all that blood, too much would be lost by the time someone finds me.

The only time someone might see me, or notice my absence is if the blood seeps through the floor and lands on the ground level. Or, if Mr. Blofis, Nico, Hestia, or somebody, notices that I'm not there, and then finds out the reasoning. Gabe will obviously not know, so they'll probably have to come over here, see my bloody body, they'll be disgusted, maybe throw up, who knows? So I guess that's it then. I'm going to cut to death.

It's now Friday, or otherwise known as my last day of school. Middle of second semester for others, last day for me. I was strangely cheerful today. Even Luke's taunts and physical abuse wasn't enough to dampen my mood. So, when they just finished beating me up, and I had a smile on my face, the expression on their faces was just priceless. I wish I had a camera, so that I could take a picture of it. Those looks just made my day the ever more better. Sure the beatings hurt, but the looks on their faces, and the fact that this is the last time that they will ever bully me, made up for it. Once they left, and I got up, I would've skipped to Nico, if not for the fact that that it is humiliating, and is totally unnecessary.

"What's up with you?" He asked.

"Nothing." I said cheerfully. "I am just absolutely wonderful." Thankfully, he didn't question. The only hard part of leaving is saying goodbye to the people who were actually kind to me. Nico, Mr. Blofis, Mr. Brunner, Hestia, Rachel, Beckendorf, who knows? Maybe even Katie. It was the end of the day, and I already said goodbye to my teachers. We were heading towards the side doors and I passed by some people, who I should probably say goodbye to.

"Goodbye G-Man." I said to Grover as we passed him. He turned around, but couldn't find the speaker in the mass of students.

"Goodbye Pinecone Face." I told Thalia as we passed by her. She, too, couldn't find me. Long story short, Thalia ran into this pine tree when we were playing tag, back when we were still pretty young, and a pinecone landed on her head. It was funny.

And finally, "Goodbye Wise Girl." I said to Annabeth. She turned around, but I lost myself in the sea of students, again. I never even gave them a chance to say "bye" back. Nico turned to me with a confused expression, but didn't question. For that, I am grateful. We walked to _Hestia's Hearth_, and after a while, we arrived.

"Goodbye Nico." I told him, for the last time.

"Bye Percy." Then he turned away, without another word. My work shift passed without a glitch.

"Goodbye Rachel." I said.

"Night Percy." She replied.

"Goodbye Beckendorf."

"Bye Percy." He responded.

"Goodbye Hestia." I told her.

"Goodnight Percy." She muttered. She was too absorbed in her work, but that's okay. I silently laughed at the irony of it all. I knew for a fact, that this would be the last time I ever saw them, but they didn't know that.

The next day, I woke up early to watch the sunrise. Sure I saw it tons of times before, but this is my last sunrise. I needed to make it count. I went into my hidden room, for the last time, and brought a red permanent marker with me. There was this large space of wall, not covered, so I wrote one word on it. _Goodbye._

I then went outside, and walked to Central Park. I took my time walking around, trying to absorb my last view of nature. Everyone just continued about their business, without a care for the teenage boy who is spending his last day on Earth in their very presence. Wow, I'm making it sound like I'm famous or something, and that they should be honoured. Well, they shouldn't be. As a matter of fact, they should be disgusted at the thought of sharing the same air as this freak, in other words, me.

As I walked around, I saw this small pond. Even though it was very miniscule, it was water, and I love water. Once I reached it, I stared into my reflection. Even in the water's reflection, I looked way too thin and different, so I just looked away. The way that the sun's rays reflected onto the water, it was beautiful. If there were no signs that said to not go into the water, I would've just loved to take off my shoes, skim the water with my toes, and just let it relax me.

My stomach growled, reminding me that I didn't have breakfast. Before I left the house, I took some of my savings, so that I can just spend it on things that would make my last day memorable. Food is definitely one of those things. I went to the nearest best buffet there was, and just got a table for one. I don't know if there was a particular age you must be to get a table, but if there was one, the stewardess didn't say anything.

The design and architecture of the place was amazing. Geez, even after not spending like three years with Annabeth, her architecture obsession rubbed off on me. After being seated at a table, and given a cold water with ice, and a little lemon, I started to get some food. I made sure to not get too much, so that I have space for dessert. Also because I was so used to having so little food, that I'll probably just throw it up. I guess I should've thought of that beforehand. No wonder Annabeth used to call me Seaweed Brain.

But, besides all the technicalities, and the possibility of throwing up, the food was amazing. The last time I had food this good, was the last time I had a proper home-made meal. After an hour or so, I was too full, that I could barely function. After trying to digest for another thirty minutes, I asked for the cheque. I had enough money on me, so I was able to pay the price, with maybe a generous tip also included. Might as well spend my last day making others happy, and myself as well, right? On my way out, I was able to hold the door open for this elderly couple, whose wife was in a wheelchair and the husband was pushing her. I remembered them as the couple I saw before, in the park.

"Thanks sweetie." The elderly woman said kindly. The man smiled at me.

"No problem." I replied with a genuine smile on my face. This couple are the type of people who you can be around, and just can't help but be happy.

I spent part of the rest of the day just helping out other people. Whether it be giving some money to a charity, homeless person, or street performer, helping open doors for people who need it, or just handing out smiles, I tried to help. Because sometimes, all it takes is for someone to just show that you care, that can make a huge difference. Sometimes the most simplest acts, make the most impact. If more people were just kind to me, and they helped me, then maybe I wouldn't be like this. After all, maybe if I try to help out people today, then I'll be partially forgiven for the huge sin I'm about to make.

The sun was starting to set, and I was heading towards Sunnyside Hospital to say goodbye to my mom, one last time. While I was on my way, I saw this teenage girl, jogging, with earphones on, not really paying attention to the environment around her. I also saw this car, at speeds way over the maximum, heading straight towards her. My legs started moving, before my brain can even fully comprehend what was happening. At this particular rate, the car should come into contact with the girl in just a few seconds. She isn't even paying attention, and is taking her time, jogging across the street. _Gods, pay attention! _I wanted to scream at her. The car should collide with her in about 5...4...3... I slammed into the girl, clearly knocking her over, out of harm's way. This is probably the kindest act I did all day, or my whole life, for that manner.

"Hey!" She protested. ...2...

"...1..." I whispered before the car slammed into me, making me fly several feet from the scene.

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><p><strong>Hehe. So, all of you who didn't want him to commit suicide, he didn't really. And those of you who did, well, there's this. But, truthfully though, what else would you want to do if you know when you're going to die? I'd, personally, help out in any way I can, and right any wrongs. Anyways, I'm going on this three-day bus-tour thing this Saturday to late Monday night, so I'll try to update either really early in the morning on Saturday, or over there, since the hotel has Wi-Fi. By the way, there's only one chapter and an epilogue after this, so yeah. I hope you liked this chapter. <strong>


	23. Chapter 23

**So yeah. This chapter is coming out a little early, but I'm sure you don't mind. I don't know anything about medical procedures, so may you please ignore anything wrong? Also, I'm updating this at like 2:30 in the _morning_, so please forgive any mistakes. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three<strong>

(Percy's POV)

The first thing that hit me was the pain. The second thing, was that I didn't get to die by my own hand. Sure that idea was a bit morbid, but I was looking forward to it. Okay, that came off wrong. What I meant was that killing myself, by my own hand, gives me a sense of control. It seemed as if, during my whole life, some other being was controlling it, and that I had no say in the matter. At least, if I committed suicide, it makes me feel as if I'm denying the Fates. The third thing that hit me was, "How am I even alive?" Is that weird? Oh well. The crash is probably starting to make me delirious.

I heard random voices speaking but I couldn't hear literal words. A face suddenly appeared above mine. She had familiar curly blond hair and stormy-grey eyes. The sun setting behind her made her hair appear as if she was wearing a halo. I was about to say something humiliating and stupid like, "Are you my guardian angel?" But I managed to stop myself in time.

"Are you okay?" Annabeth asked.

_Does it look like I'm okay? _I wanted to say, but couldn't. So I gave a grunt instead. Although, some blood came out, as well. Since I was lying on my back, the blood just sputtered back onto my face. _Ew, _ I thought. Thankfully, Annabeth didn't say it. But if she did, I wouldn't blame her. Instead, she just wiped my face with this random tissue, I have no idea where she got from.

"I'm sorry." She said.

"It's okay, Wise Girl." I tried to reply, but it came out like, "Iss oay, Wie Url." Her eyes finally widened in recognition.

"Percy?" She asked.

"_No_." I responded, my voice came out clearer now. "It's the Grinch." She laughed. If I wasn't on the brink of death, then this could have passed as a normal conversation.

"Still the same old Seaweed Brain." She observed.

"No. I'm not." I said seriously. "I changed, you changed, we all changed."

"Yeah, we did. Why did you save me?" She questioned, changing the subject.

"It was a natural instinct." I replied, telling the truth. "I couldn't control it."

"When you pushed me, you could have fell with me, you know." She pointed out.

"Huh? Oh well." I stated.

"But you could die!" She exclaimed.

"Why do you care?" I questioned. Sure that came off a little rude, but after all that she did to me, can you blame me?

"Because I'm your friend Seaweed Brain, anymore stupid questions?" She replied.

"Really? You weren't acting much like a friend for the past three years. As a matter of fact, if I recall correctly, you told me to go fall in a hole, and that you wouldn't care if I died." I retorted. Tears started to spring into her eyes. I wanted to feel bad for her, and forgive her, but I just...can't.

"You know I didn't mean it." She whispered.

"If you didn't mean it, then why would you say it?" I asked.

"I was under the influence of anger. I wasn't thinking properly." She reasoned.

"Wow. Annabeth Chase not thinking properly. What has the world come to?" I said, sarcasm practically oozing from my mouth, along with some blood, maybe. "Then why didn't you try patching things up with me later?"

"You know that if I had a fatal flaw, it would be hubris." She recalled.

"Of course, how can I forget?" I told her. Black spots started to fill my vision. "Hey Annabeth, are black spots normal?" Her eyes widened in alarm.

"No, Percy. Please Percy, stay with us." Ambulance sirens started to sound. "Help is almost here, just please stay." She pleaded. I tried to keep my eyes open, but they kept shutting.

"I'm sorry, Wise Girl. I'm sorry. Tell my mom I love her." Cliché? Maybe a tad bit. Those were the last words I spoken before darkness enveloped me.

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><p>(Annabeth's POV)<p>

"Percy?" I asked. Panic starting to seize me. "Percy?" He wasn't moving. "Seaweed Brain?" I screamed. Still nothing. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. The tears had to be fought down, but I was losing this battle. I can't lose him, I just can't. He can't just...die. Saving me, too. Gods, it's all my fault. Even after three years, even after everything has changed, I know that the old Percy is still in there somewhere. He just needs to brought back.

I miss him, though. I don't care if he'll wake up a totally different person as before, I just want him back. I want what used to be, back. Back when we were the best of friends, and would do anything for each other. Back when everything wasn't so complicated. Although, wish as I might, I can never have what used to be back. And now, I might never have Percy back.

"Miss?" Someone said. I looked up and saw this young adult in blue clothing. He was probably one of the paramedics. "We need to take him."

I got up. "Yes. Please. Of course." The paramedics put him on a stretcher and loaded him onto the ambulance. "May I come too?" I asked, trying to sound desperate and broken. It wasn't that hard acting, but my pride made it difficult.

"I'm sorry, miss." One of them said. "But, we're going to Sunnyside Hospital, so maybe you can meet us, there." I wanted to argue, but there was no hope. Besides, Percy needs help as fast as possible.

"Fine." I grumbled. I then started to jog to the hospital, it wasn't that far from here, anyways. This time, however, I was extra careful of my surroundings, and my iPod was safely tucked away in my pocket. Gods, why was I so stupid? Now Percy can _die_, because of me.

As I ran away from the scene, I was able to hear some snippets of conversation. I realized that the person who hit Percy was highly intoxicated, and wasn't able to think straight. Great. Now some person, who possibly killed someone, is now only walking away with a large fine, and some years in jail. That person is only losing some part of their lives, when Percy could lose his _whole_ life. Gods, this isn't fair. But, then again. life's not fair. After 20 minutes, I finally arrived at the hospital.

"Percy Jackson?" I asked the secretary.

"Third floor, room 729." She told me.

"Thank you." I replied. I went up as quickly as possible, only to find Mr. Blofis on the third floor.

"Did you hear about Percy?" I asked him. He looked at me with wide eyes.

"No. What happened?" He demanded. Through a lot of stuttering and near emotional breakdowns, I was able to retell the story. "God takes one life and gives back another." He muttered.

"Why do you mean?" I questioned.

"Sal-Mrs. Jackson just woke up from her coma."

"What?" I exclaimed.

Now it was his turn to tell me the story of how Sally went into a coma, and then woke up. "I called Percy's house, but no one picked up. " Gods, how much has changed in three years?

I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around, and recognized him as one of the paramedics who took Percy away. "Hello, miss. I'm Dr. Apollo, and I was wondering if you may tell me a recount of the story which caused Percy to be in this condition." For the second time this day, I retold the story, including as much detail as possible. Once I finished, Dr. Apollo whistled. "Dang, Percy was one tough kid." It was only later that I realized he said "was."

"What do you mean?" Mr. Blofis questioned.

"Well, judging by the force of collision, and area of impact, he should have blacked out instantly. If you incorporate the fact that he had a whole lot of other injuries too, I'm surprised that he didn't die at the scene. But, judging from your story, Percy was able to hold up _and_ have a conversation, that requires strength."

"May I go see him now?" I asked. Dr. Apollo's face turned rueful.

"I don't know if you'll want to." He tried to reason.

I nodded. "I want to."

He sighed. "Very well. Follow me." I followed him into this room that had the words 729 printed on it. "You may enter."

"Aren't you coming?" I questioned.

He shook his head. "I need to go work with Mrs. Jackson." Then he left. I took a deep breath, and then opened the door.

I saw Percy laying down on the bed, with a bunch of wires attached practically everywhere. His chest was exposed, and I fought back the tears and gag reflex. Oh gods, what happened? Percy had all these scars and bruises that just couldn't have been caused from the accident. Some even looked like he did it himself. _Weak_, was written on his left arm. _Loser, _on his right. _Anorexic, _was printed on his stomach, along with the words _Go Die. _ Gods, I never knew that Percy cut himself, and was suicidal. But, then again, a lot can change in three years, I guess.

"Percy," I muttered. "How could you do this to yourself?"

I heard a steady beeping sound that must be his heart monitor. It was constant, the line. A bit too slow, but constant. Suddenly, his heart beat slowed down, and my eyes widened in acknowledgement. As quickly as humanely possible, I slammed the red emergency button. Doctors suddenly ran into the room, while ushering me out. Tears sprung to my eyes as I tried to remove the images from my mind. All the bruises. The cuts. The gashes. The tubes. The blood. And finally, the flat line.

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><p><strong>Hehe. So yeah, I killed him off. Wow, I'm so nonchalant at that, aren't I? (I'm so cruel.) By the way, the way that the story ended with the flat line, I kind of copied from someone else. So, basically, I sort of don't own the last sentence. Whew. Glad to get that off my chest. Can that just count as a disclaimer? After this, there would be an epilogue and that's it. So, I guess you know what happened. It was sort of inevitable. Although, I might just add this chapter ONLY stating my thanks and stuff, NO more adding onto the storyline. <strong>


	24. Epilogue

**Okay guys, here's the last chapter! I actually had the ending planned out _way_ before I even reached the middle. That's my problem. So anyways, here it is!**

**Disclaimer: I will never own the perfection known as Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan is the creator of it all. Nor do I own the song, _How to Save a Life, _or the book series, _Magic Treehouse_.**

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

(Annabeth's POV)

It's been two weeks since the death of Percy Jackson. We just finished the funeral rituals, and we are now heading to the Jackson residence for the repass, or otherwise known as the gathering after the funeral. Once I got there, I just remained standing outside, with some flowers in hand, a tad bit hesitant to go in. It's been three years. Three long years.

"You coming Annie?" Thalia asked. If I weren't too busy grieving, I would have glared at her, and punished her for calling me Annie. She too had flowers. A beautiful bouquet of black roses, with a tint of red, was held in her hand. It symbolized death. Why couldn't she have picked flowers with a more optimistic meaning?

"Yeah. It's just the memories." I told her truthfully.

"I know. It's been a while." She agreed. "Come on, let's go." Inside the house looked the same as three years ago. I wondered what happened to that Gabe person I heard about. Some say he went to jail, and others just say he just disappeared. I don't know, and personally, I don't care.

"Hey Sally." I greeted, while giving her one of the flowers. It was a blue iris, which symbolizes faith and hope. After she woke up from her coma, she became stronger than ever. I felt sorry for her though. Everyone she loved, her whole family, died.

"Hey Annabeth." She replied. "How are you holding up?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that question?" I pointed out. She held her arms out, and I gladly hugged her.

"Don't worry. We'll get through this together. He's in a better place, now." She reassured.

"Yeah he is." I stated. "Do you mind if I go up to his room?"

"Feel free. This is practically your home." She claimed.

"Thanks." I said, pushing myself away from the hug.

"No problem." She responded.

I then walked up the all-too-familiar stairs, to his room. I opened the door, and it still looks the same. A bit too tidy than usual, but similar. I walked over to his bed, and then placed my last flower on it. It was a blue carnation, that means "I miss you." I then headed over to his bookcase and pulled out the red, title-less book. I still remembered. The bookcase popped open, just as I remembered, and I went inside. It still looked the same. Sure there were some more quotes and pictures, but it was similar.

_Goodbye, _was written on one of the walls. It's like he knew that he was going to leave. I took out my iPod and put it on shuffle. _How to Save a Life_, went on, and I found it really ironic, considering the fact that I'm at a funeral. I started swaying to the music and I vaguely remembered that day when Percy and I were just jamming along to my music. I did a little spin, remembering when Percy twirled me, and these two pictures caught my eye. It was the one with the infinity symbol and the circle with SB+WG in them. I thought back to that day nearly ten years ago. The day when everything began.

_My kindergarten class was heading towards Central Park, as one of our many field trips. I, as well as others, was completely awed by its beauty. Even though it was fairly simple, the human brain _does_ perceive simple things as beautiful. Before you ask, yes. My tiny four-year-old mind can comprehend big words like perceive. _

_ "Okay class." Our teacher, Ms. Diana, said. Us, being the obedient children we were, stopped what we were doing and looked at her. "First, we will take a tour of the park, well some parts of it, and after that, you may do anything you want. Just stay in sight of the teachers, and don't do anything bad. Or else you _will_ get a time-out." She threatened. That was the absolute worst punishment _ever_, for us. "I will now assign you buddies, that you must stay with at all times, okay?" We nodded. _

_She then started rattling off names, that I ignored. Don't blame me. Blame my ADHD! I tuned out everything she said, until she got to my name. "Annabeth Chase with Perseus-err, I mean Percy Jackson." Percy Jackson? Huh, never heard of him. But, then again, I didn't know half my classmates. Now how was I supposed to find him? The Fates must have been kind that day, because I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw this boy with messy jet-black hair, and bright sea-green eyes. _

_ He took his hand out for me to shake, and grinned a big, toothy grin. "Percy Jackson." He introduced. _

Yeah I kind of thought that, _I remarked in my mind. I shook his hand. "Annabeth Chase."_

_ "Okay class." Ms. Diana, told us once more. "Let's go." Percy and I continued holding hands, throughout the entire tour. It wasn't like that! Others were doing it too, and besides, our teachers encourage us to hold hands so we "don't get lost." _

_This park was absolutely amazing. Sure I came here before, but not in this particular section. Having a chance to just escape the busyness of the city, into the serenity of the park, is an amazing feeling. Before I knew it, and to my utter disappointment, the tour was finished. "You may do whatever you want now, but please stay in this section." Ms. Diana reminded us. There were some cheers and everyone started to disperse in random directions._

_ "I'll be right back." Percy said, before he ran off. Aren't we supposed to stay together? Oh well. I found this nearby, unoccupied bench underneath this tree, so I sat there. I took out a book from my backpack, and started reading. While others read picture books, or didn't even know how to read at all, I started reading short chapter books, with some or no pictures. I was about half-way through the story, when this shadow blocked my sunlight. It was none other than Percy Jackson. I noticed this little blue bruise on his arm. Was that always there?_

_ "What cha readin'?" He asked. _

_ "Magic Tree House." I replied. Don't criticise me!_

_ "Okay...? Wanna play?" He suggested. _

_ "What?" I questioned. His face suddenly lit up, as if he had this great idea. He touched my shoulder. _

_ "Tag. You're it." He said, before running off. I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless safely tucked my book into my bag, and started running after him. I was always fast for my age, and caught up with him, in just a few minutes. _

_ "Tag." I told him, before also running off. I took a risk looking behind me, only to see Percy standing there, in the exact same spot. "You coming?" That seemed to jar him out of his little day-dream, and then he started chasing me. We did that for a pretty long time, and then it was lunch. We sat down on the same bench I was sitting on before, and started eating. After a while, we finished. _

_ "Now what?" He asked. _

_ "Well, let's not play, since we still need time to digest." I reasoned. _

_ He looked at me, confusedly. "What?" _

_ I laughed. "How about we just get to know about each other, a bit better."_

_ "Okay. My name is Percy Jackson. I have a mommy and daddy. My favourite colour is blue. I love the beach, and anything water. My birthday is August 18, and I love cookies, horses, and any water animal."_

_ I laughed, once more. "I'm Annabeth Chase. I also have a daddy and mommy. My favourite colour is grey. I love reading and watching movies with my daddy, while eating popcorn. My birthday is July 12, owls are my favourite animals, and I also love cookies."_

_ His face lit up. "Cookies!" _

_ I giggled. "Seaweed Brain." I muttered. _

_ "What?" He questioned, once more._

_ "Well, your eyes remind me of seaweed, and it seems as if you only have seaweed in your brain. You also love water, so Seaweed Brain." I explained. _

_ "Well, you-your-you're a Smart Girl." He stuttered._

_ "Smart Girl?" I tried out. "How about Wise Girl? It has a better ring to it." _

_ "Okay, Wise Girl." He replied. _

_ "Okay, Seaweed Brain." His eyes lit up once more. _

_ "Follow me." He said. He headed towards the tree behind us, and I did as he asked. Percy sat down on the ground and got a stick. He tried making scratches on the bark, to no prevail. _

_ "What are you doing?" I questioned, while stifling in laughter. He looked so concentrated. _

_ "I'm drawing something. Or at least trying to." He responded. _

_ I handed him a rock. "Try this." He did and it worked, somewhat. Percy drew a little circle with the initials SB+WG in it. "What does that mean?" I asked._

_ "Seaweed Brain and Wise Girl Forever. Since, you know, a circle has no end, nor beginning." He explained. I was shocked, he actually knew that? I guess he was smarter than I gave him credit for. _

_ "How about this?" I took the rock, and made a little infinity sign, with SB in one part, WG in the other, and a plus sign in the middle. "Seaweed Brain and Wise Girl Forever."_

_ He grinned. "I like it. So we're forever?" He asked. _

_ "Best Friends." I agreed. _

_ He smiled even more. "We're going to be BFFFFFF's." He further explained after seeing my confused face. "Best Friends Forever and Ever, and Ever, and Ever..."_

_ I cut him off. "Then shouldn't it be BFFAEAEAEAE?" I asked. _

_ He scowled, but I can see the corners of his mouth quirk up a little bit. He was probably trying to stop himself from smiling, to no prevail. "Wise Girl." He muttered._

_ "Seaweed Brain." I retorted. This time, he actually smiled. _

_ "We're going to be Best Friends Forever. Okay, Wise Girl?" He asked. _

_ "Okay, Seaweed Brain." I replied. _

_ "Promise?" He questioned, sticking out his little pinky finger. I knew the risks of making a promise. Pinky promises are just _way_ too much commitment. Although, that never stopped me. If only my four-year-old self knew of the promises she was going to break. If only she knew of the mistakes she was going to make. But she never did, and she never will. _

_ I wrapped my little pinky around his own and whispered one word, "Promise." _

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><p><strong>I actually like this ending. Hopefully, you guys do, too. Anyways, if you see another update for this story, it's probably just going to be my thanks and stuff, so don't get your hopes up. <strong>


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